


Text, Context and Sub-text

by shao_fu



Series: Text, Context and Sub-text [2]
Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Crossover, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-29
Updated: 2012-05-29
Packaged: 2017-11-06 05:18:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 28,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/415129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shao_fu/pseuds/shao_fu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Detective Danny Williams has a lot to be thankful for and he owes most of it to Dr. John Watson and his partner, the complex Consulting Detective Sherlock Holmes. When things start to go awry, he begins an email exchange with the benevolent doctor and discovers they have even more in common than he first suspected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Danny knew he was a sound sleeper but he didn’t think it was necessary for the alarm clock, the land line and his cell phone to all attempt to wake him simultaneously. Instinctively, he hit the alarm off button and groped for his phone, holding it to his ear while he staggered out of bed to pick up the land line. Half asleep, he noticed Steve wasn’t back from his morning swim and the coffee machine was cold. Chin was on his mobile, informing Danny of a crime scene; the land line went dead as he picked up, much to his annoyance. Trying to shake off the last remnants of sleep, he made the coffee and wandered out to the lanai to see if he could spot Steve.

He was on his way in, cutting through the water in a fast crawl and Danny returned to the kitchen to pour two cups of coffee and grab a towel. Steve never, ever remembered to carry a towel with him, usually air drying while he dripped all over the lanai or the kitchen floor. Steve finally reached the shallows and waded the rest of the way to the beach. Seeing Danny, he jogged towards him and Danny tossed the towel to him before he stepped off the sand. Steve grinned and roughly toweled down before joining Danny on the lanai. Danny handed him the cup of coffee but Steve shook his head. Danny raised an eyebrow but put the cup down and then had just enough time to put his down, too, as Steve’s arms wrapped around him from behind and he felt warm lips on the back of his neck.

“I’ve just put this shirt on,” he complained, “and you’re covering it with wet sand.”

“So take it off,” Steve murmured and Danny shivered at the sultry tone of his voice.

“Un-unh, not this morning,” he said, shaking his head. “Chin just called; we’ve gotta go, babe.”

“Nooo,” Steve whined, “we’re supposed to be on vacation.”

“Not any more, we’re not. If you’d been paying attention to anything I said yesterday you would know we are back on duty as of 0700 this morning. Don’t give me that look; go and get ready and I’ll make breakfast!”

Steve obediently went off to shower and change but he came clattering back down the stairs a few seconds later.

“Ha!” he exclaimed, making Danny jump and splash pancake batter on his already abused shirt.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” he demanded indignantly.

“You can’t fool me,” Steve said with a smug grin and Danny rolled his eyes.

“Steven, I mean it, what is wrong with you?” he asked. “Chin called ten minutes ago and we should already be on the road. Get a move on!” Steve’s face fell.

“You’re serious,” he said and his lower lip reflected his disappointment.

“Of course, I’m serious. Will you please go and get ready while I change my shirt? We’ll have to pick up breakfast on the way – and stop pouting, you big baby,” he added as Steve went back upstairs.

“Am not,” came a muffled reply and Danny groaned and headed up the stairs behind Steve to find a clean shirt.

“It’s like living with a two-year-old,” he said to the air. “Even Gracie doesn’t behave like this!” he added louder so Steve could hear as he stripped off his shirt and pulled on a fresh one. Although he hadn’t officially moved in with Steve, most of his stuff had gradually migrated there and he spent so little time in his apartment that he was ready to give it up. He didn’t want to assume anything, however, so he was waiting for Steve to suggest they made their living arrangement permanent. He didn’t feel he could just invite himself to move in.

“Okay, alright,” Steve said, having taken a lightning fast shower. “I’m sorry, okay; it’s just when I saw the date, I thought you were joking.”

“The date?”

“April 1st - you know.” 

Danny snarled and grabbed his mobile to call Chin.

“Tell me this is a for real crime scene and not some hoax,” he yelled when Chin picked up. He listened and said, “Oh, okay, sorry I yelled. Two bodies, you say? Yeah, Steve and I will be right there. No, Chin, you were not interrupting anything – what kind of question is that, any way? No, don’t even go there; we’re on our way.”

~

John finished packing his suitcase and shut the lid with a sigh. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to go home to London but the last week had been sublime and returning to harsh reality anywhere was going to be difficult. Mycroft was waiting for Sherlock’s report; Lestrade had already sent three texts; and he’d had an email from Sarah asking if he could change his shifts and come in a day earlier than planned. The delights of Hawaii were already fading, swamped by scheduling, questions and demands and they hadn’t even left for the airport yet! He wandered out onto the balcony for one last look at the ocean as the sun dipped gracefully towards the horizon. To his surprise, Sherlock was out on his balcony and actually looked rather regretful, too. He turned his head as John stepped out.

“Ready to go?” he asked and John shook his head.

“No, I’m not,” he said. “Oh, I’ve packed and I’m all set but, quite honestly, I don’t want to leave. Despite everything that happened with Moriarty, I’m really going to miss this place. This last week – well - ” John’s voice trailed off and he looked at Sherlock, oblivious to the scarlet splendour of the sunset.

“You needed a vacation,” Sherlock said calmly, apparently unmoved.

“We needed a vacation,” John corrected. “I’m just grateful you actually took some time off.”

“It has been most – pleasant,” Sherlock said, clearing his throat and turning his gaze to the sunset. John couldn’t take his eyes off him, the fading light limning his profile with gold. He felt his heart squeeze in his chest and bit back a sigh.

“The governor is sending a car for us,” he said. “We should go down to the lobby.”

“In a moment,” Sherlock murmured, his eyes fixed to the setting sun. “Would you care to join me?” he added and John turned away and made haste to go through the adjoining door into Sherlock’s room. He stepped out onto the balcony and was surprised when Sherlock slipped an arm around his waist and pulled him to his side. His voice dropped into the sexy rumble John found so irresistible and he said softly in John’s ear,

“I shall always have very fond memories of this place.” John tilted his head up to look into his eyes and Sherlock smiled and bent down, capturing his lips in a deep, passionate kiss, leaving John breathless and giddy.

“Is it this place?” he asked daringly and Sherlock shook his head.

“No John; I admit this place has been conducive to the strengthening of our relationship but it is not an essential ingredient. Your presence is all that is required.” John shook his head.

“I wish you wouldn’t do that, Sherlock,” he said wistfully. 

“Do what, John? I merely spoke the truth as is my wont.”

“I know – it’s so terrifyingly honest that it unmans me.” He smiled, his eyes full of unspoken words that Sherlock had no difficulty in interpreting.

“Ah, I see,” Sherlock said with a familiar quirk of his lips. “There is no reason to become sentimental, John. Hawaii has been a good experience on the whole, if we ignore the fact that you were hurt more than once, but nothing has really changed.”

“You see, that’s exactly what I mean - and let’s not forget that you were hurt, too,” John said and glanced at his watch. “Time to go.”

~

From: dwilliams@h50.hawaii.gov   
Sent: 2nd April  
To: john@drjhwatson.co.uk

Subject: Thank you and goodbye

Hi John! I was going to write yesterday but didn’t think you’d want any strange emails on April 1st. Sorry Steve and I didn’t get to see you again before you left but you know how it is, roads to hell and good intentions and all that. I heard the Governor gave you an appropriate send off. Things are pretty good here, thanks to you and Sherlock. Steve hasn’t been hurt and hasn’t managed to blow up anything since you left, so I’m ahead at the moment. Of course, that just means something terrible is probably imminent. No news on Wo Fat or Moriarty, I’m afraid. I’m guessing the nut job is creating the usual mayhem, right? Stay in touch just so I know you’re not dead or missing any body parts.  
Danny

~

From: john@drjhwatson.co.uk  
Sent: 4th April  
To: dwilliams@h50.hawaii.gov 

Subject: RE: Thank you and goodbye

Hello Danny! How nice to hear from you; I’m so glad you decided to keep in touch. I’m sorry we didn’t get to meet up with you and Steve again but we were all rather busy with ‘other things’, weren’t we? Sherlock and I definitely were! The Governor did, indeed, accompany us to the airport and said a lot of nice things; not that Sherlock cares a toss about any of that but I do like to hear that he is appreciated. We will be very interested to hear how things progress in Oahu. Not just news on Wo Fat and Moriarty but the 5-O team and you and Steve. We have a rather proprietary interest in the pair of you and, yes, it is as prurient as you imagine! Please give our best wishes to Kono, Chin and Jenna.  
You will be pleased to know that things are pretty quiet here, too. Like you, I am anticipating imminent disaster if Sherlock gets too bored. By the way, he says to tell you he does not create mayhem, he merely uncovers it and he would prefer not to be identified as ‘the nut job’ unless you mean it as a term of endearment. Neither of us is dead or missing body parts at the moment.

John

~~~

Danny was pacing in small circles, hands waving frantically and he was getting decidedly red around the ears. Kono poked Jenna and grinned.

“Looks like the boss is getting it in the neck,” she said gleefully.

“It would appear so,” Jenna replied with a grin of her own. “Not that he doesn’t deserve it after that idiotic trick he pulled today.”

“Of course, he doesn’t see it like that,” Chin chimed in, perching on Kono’s desk to get a good view of Steve’s office. “He was merely ‘pursuing a criminal in the most effective way possible’, as he is obviously trying to explain to Danny. Ah, it looks like we’re getting to the part where Danny points out to Steve that the Governor granting him ‘immunity and means’ doesn’t mean - ”

“- that he’s immune!” Kono and Jenna joined Chin in the chorus just as Danny barged out of the office.

“Very funny!” he flung at them as he stormed past and headed for the men’s room. Steve was limping slowly behind him and Chin intervened.

“You’d better sit down and take the weight off that ankle,” he said. “I’ll go and make sure Danny isn’t demolishing any walls with his head or whatever.”

Steve sat down gratefully and glanced at the other members of his team.

“He’s really mad,” he said unnecessarily.

“You said it, brah,” Kono responded. “Did you have to jump off the roof, boss? Wasn’t there a fire escape?”

“Oh God, not you, too! I told Danny, there wasn’t any time, I was going to lose him if I’d used the fire escape.”

“So you jumped off the roof on top of him,” Jenna added, “inflicting a broken arm on him and, fortunately, only spraining your ankle. Meanwhile, Danny had driven around the building and already had him cornered.”

“I didn’t see Danny until after . . .” Steve said. “Let’s just let it drop, okay,” he said as Chin returned with Danny glowering behind him. Kono, Jenna and Chin melted away discreetly as Danny folded his arms and stared Steve down.

“Let’s go,” he said to Steve with a tilt of his head towards the exit. “I’m taking you home so you can rest.”

“Danny, really, I’m perfectly capable of doing paperwork at least!”

“You? Paperwork? Please! You are going to follow doctor’s orders and go home to bed.” Steve sighed but limped after Danny to the car park. Danny maintained a frosty silence, pretending to be impervious to the sheep’s eyes Steve was making at him.

“Are you going to put me to bed like a naughty boy?” he asked with a smirk.

“Steven, I would not push your luck with me right now,” Danny answered severely. Glancing sideways as Steve subsided, Danny saw the down turned mouth and relented a little. 

“Okay, listen; three days bed rest while you keep the weight off your foot and then you can come back as long as there is no more hot pursuit until the doc says you’re completely healed. You’re very lucky you’re not in a cast, you know, and that’s what will happen if you can’t be sensible.”

“I can’t stay in bed for three days, Danno,” Steve muttered pathetically. “I’ll go crazy. And how am I supposed to manage if I’m not allowed to put weight on my foot?”

“I,” said Danny with an air of being greatly put upon, “will be taking care of you, Steven. What did you think I was going to do? Leave you to your own devices?”

“You’ll stay?” Steve brightened immediately. “I wasn’t going to assume . . .”

“Steven,” Danny interrupted.

“Yes, Danny?”

“Shut up!”

~

From: dwilliams@h50.hawaii.gov  
Sent: 20th April  
To: john@drjhwatson.co.uk

Subject: Spoke too soon!

Hey John, looks like my hunch was correct. Steve is currently out of commission with a sprained ankle, suffered when he jumped off a roof. I’m sure I do not need to go into further details but let me just tell you that he considers it a job well done as long as he makes an arrest even if he gives me cardiac arrest! I am seriously debating whether or not to have him committed and I fully sympathize with you regarding the responsibilities of partnering a certifiable maniac. What did I do to deserve this, I ask you? Why couldn’t I have partnered Chin or Kono? Unfortunately, that was never an option, as we both know – and there is an upside, after all.

You’re a medical doctor, I know; any advice on how to prevent him from aggravating his current injury? That he is aggravating me goes without saying.

Danny

~

From: john@drjhwatson.co.uk  
Sent: 22nd April  
To: dwilliams@h50.hawaii.gov

Subject: RE: Spoke too soon!

Sorry to hear about Steve. Not sure this is appropriate medical advice but you could try handcuffing him to the bed!

Sherlock has just read this over my shoulder without the context of your email and wants to know why I am recommending kinky sex - I think he’s envious! He’s definitely sulking . . .

John

~~~

“John, really, all I did was twist my ankle. I am perfectly capable of - ”

“Not another word, Sherlock. You will allow that this is an area where I am the expert and not you! Under no circumstances are you to put any additional strain on your injury. I don’t care what you have on at the moment, you are to elevate that leg and rest, goddamnit!”

“Oh, very well! Pass me my phone or am I not allowed to even text in case I sprain a thumb?”

“Please don’t resort to being childish, Sherlock, it doesn’t become you. You have a hyper-extended Achilles tendon and any exertion could cause further damage. It’s partly my fault, of course, because I not only allow you to race around as if you were a teenager but I follow you!”

“Yes, you do; why is that?” Sherlock, as mercurial as ever, stopped sulking and his eyes twinkled. John sighed.

“You know very well why.” Sherlock held out his hand and John moved across to grasp it in his own.

“You will recall that you followed me that first night, John, thus proving that your leg injury was, indeed, psychosomatic.”

“Yes, I did and I will continue to follow you because you have no sense of personal safety and someone has to watch out for you.” Sherlock pulled him down and brushed his lips with a fleeting kiss.

“I consider myself very lucky to have such a conscientious watchdog but you must allow me to work, John.”

“Ten days rest, Sherlock,” John said severely and, when Sherlock immediately looked sulky again, leaned in and whispered, “okay, a week and, if you’re a good boy, I’ll allow certain activities as long as they don’t involve running around or leaping tall buildings.” Sherlock brightened again.

“What kind of activities do you have in mind?” he asked with an air of innocence. John grinned.

“Well, anything that allows you to remain horizontal would be acceptable.”

“Ah, yes,” Sherlock’s voice dropped seductively. “That would be acceptable to me, too.”

“Good, I’m glad we can agree on something. Now, how about a nice cup of tea?”

~

From: john@drjhwatson.co.uk  
Sent: 1st May  
To: dwilliams@h50.hawaii.gov

Subject: Similarities continue

Hi Danny! I hope Steve has recovered and has not caused any further anxiety. Sherlock is currently handcuffed to the bed (metaphorically speaking) to prevent him exacerbating a strained tendon. Only the promise of kinky sex at some later date is reconciling him to his current situation. Apparently, he is determined to outdo Steve at every turn, including the aggravation of his partner.

John

~~~

Steve managed to stay at home resting for a day but spent all his time on the phone to Danny, even though Danny was staying with him and would give him all the news when he returned from work. When he finally got sick of taking his calls, Steve transferred his attention to Chin, then Kono and finally Jenna. It was a war of attrition, Steve making himself a total nuisance until Danny gave in and allowed him to come back to the office a day early, having extracted a promise that he would stay off his feet and do nothing more than answer the phone and catch up on his paperwork. That lasted a whole other day before Steve grew even more restless and wanted to be back on the road with Danny. Not surprisingly, Danny did not believe his promises to stay in the car and the atmosphere became rather tense.

The ultimate straw for Danny was when Steve not only went off on his own – on foot, no less – but managed to stumble upon an armed robbery in progress at the small store he had gone to for a snack. He did manage to call for backup but, as usual, did not wait and what should have been a fairly simple take down became a running gun battle and Danny finally lost it when he narrowly avoided being shot. As soon as the criminals had been apprehended and handed over to HPD, Danny hustled Steve into the car and drove him home. Steve’s protests were met with a stony silence and only when they were inside the house with the door firmly shut did Danny let loose his tirade. By the time he stopped to draw breath he had threatened Steve with everything from castration to a slow and painful death, laid the worst guilt trip possible on him about leaving Gracie fatherless through sheer dumbass stupidity and reached a matchless peroration of fury, worry, injured feelings and pleas for Steve to cease and desist from trying to get himself and his partner killed at every possible opportunity. His eloquence was such that Steve actually had sufficient sense to promise to remain at home without further argument until his doctor gave him permission to return to work. 

Later, after he had calmed down, Danny considered this one of his finest moments and regretted it hadn’t been caught on tape. He also discovered that Steve in ‘beaten into submission’ mode was exactly that, allowing Danny to dominate in bed without protest or eventually assuming control as he usually did. Keeping Steve teetering on the edge for hours, until he was reduced to begging and pleading with Danny for release, did much to reconcile Danny to the less pleasurable and more dangerous facets involved in his choice of partner.

 

From: dwilliams@h50.hawaii.gov   
Sent: 15th May  
To: john@drjhwatson.co.uk

Subject: RE: Similarities continue

Hi John! Been a while I know but the criminal classes have been rather active lately and we’ve had our hands full. Steve is being an ass as usual. I’m not exactly regretting getting involved with him but I have family responsibilities and I would like to live long enough to see my daughter grow up. The risks of the job are bad enough but trying to watch Steve’s back and save him from his own stupidity is looking more and more like mission impossible.

That being said, and at the risk of TMI, there are compensations which keep me from completely washing my hands of the idiot – the fact that this may also have something to do with handcuffs and a bed is purely conicidental!

Speaking of idiots, is TNJ better?

D.

~

John was at the end of his tether. Sherlock had disappeared without trace and no-one had heard anything since John had received a text baldly stating that Sherlock was in pursuit of Moriarty. Mycroft had been unable to discover what had happened to him or where he had gone after he left Baker Street. He had been able to confirm that Moriarty was back in London and it didn’t take a genius to figure out the two events were connected. How the hell Moriarty had not only survived an apparently fatal chest wound but was recovered enough to be travelling and creating the sort of mayhem only he could conceive, was a total mystery to everyone. How Sherlock had discovered Moriarty’s whereabouts was an even bigger mystery.

John had called and texted Sherlock regularly without any reply and he was beginning to think he would never see him again. The thought was too unpleasant to dwell on and John resolutely refused to believe Sherlock would not reappear; he just wished it would be sooner rather than later. He wanted him back safe and sound and then he was going to kill him for going off without his partner to face the most evil criminal they had ever encountered. Sherlock was playing what he considered a dangerous game but it wasn’t a game to John: it was a matter of life and death and he could scarcely believe Sherlock hadn’t spared a thought for him. He knew, of course, that that was precisely the problem. Sherlock had discovered a lead on Moriarty and all else had been forgotten or, at the very least, relegated to insignificance. Meanwhile, he was left to sit and wait and pace and not sleep and worry. His world had shrunk to the confines of Baker Street and a constant chorus of ‘what ifs’ that left him exhausted and drained but unable to sleep.

Three days later, John was dozing in his armchair when the door opened and Sherlock walked in as if he had merely gone around the corner to buy a pint of milk. His bemusement when John took him to task was genuine but that did not assuage John’s furious recriminations. When he pulled on his jacket and said he was going out to get some air before he said or did something he would truly regret, Sherlock finally responded.

“Just a moment, John,” he said quietly. “I do realise now that you have every reason to be upset with me and I have no intention of trying to put forward a defense as one cannot defend the indefensible. Please believe me when I say it was never my intention to cause you such distress but, at the same time, you know who and what I am. If you have reached the point where this is no longer acceptable, then perhaps it would be better for you to discontinue our partnership.”

John froze in his tracks, his jacket half on, completely winded by Sherlock’s suggestion..

“Is that what you want?” he managed to ask eventually.

“It is not what I want that is the issue here,” Sherlock replied. “Your wishes and wellbeing are paramount and it has become apparent that my habitual modus operandi causes you an unacceptable amount of distress and discomfort.”

“And your answer is for us to end our partnership?” John said blankly.

“It would be the logical solution,” Sherlock said. “I know myself and I cannot honestly say that such an occurrence as this last episode will not happen again. I would quite understand if you found that unacceptable.”

John took off his jacket and walked slowly towards Sherlock, his eyes snapping with fury and a less definable emotion. He poked Sherlock in the chest with one finger, hard enough to make Sherlock take a step backwards.

“You – you imbecile!” John snarled. “When am I ever going to get it through that thick head of yours that I am in this for the long haul? Yes, of course I’m upset but that doesn’t mean that I would ever consider . . . how could you possibly suggest . . .” He was becoming more incoherent as he backed Sherlock against the wall. “For someone with your level of intelligence, you can be so fucking stupid . . .”

As Sherlock finally grasped the root cause of John’s problem, he took the logical course of action and proved that he was, indeed, quite brilliant. He pulled John into his arms and held him tightly against his chest, saying nothing while John shuddered and cursed him roundly. When his anger was spent, Sherlock peppered his face with light kisses, each a wordless apology, and then took him to bed.

From: john@drjhwatson.co.uk  
Sent: 4th June  
To: dwilliams@h50.hawaii.gov 

Subject: TNJ

Sorry for the late response – I, too, have had my hands full but not with the criminal classes; TNJ, as you call him (and at the moment it is a very apt description!), decided to pursue a lead on Moriarty without telling me. Yes, the bastard is apparently alive and well and still making my life a misery! Needless to say, when Sherlock finally reappeared after an absence of several days, we had a few strong words. He is currently on his best behaviour but I cannot find it in myself to appreciate the effort. His actions were inexcusable and I have the grey hairs to prove it. It is an uphill battle to convince him that he actually has someone in his life who cares about him and what happens to him and sending a text saying: Gone after M. Back soon is not acceptable! 

It seems neither of us have chosen the sort of partner with whom we can have a quiet, peaceful existence! One wonders sometimes why we have done this to ourselves but, there again, as you have so rightly pointed out, there are compensations.

J.

~~~


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Danny discover even more similarities between their partners.

Steve finally returned officially to active duty on May 16th and immediately plunged into the thick of the cases the team had been working while he was stuck at home or behind a desk. Most of them were pretty straightforward but a drug case caught his eye as it seemed to be a possible lead to Wo Fat. Chin worked with his street contacts, Steve and Danny had a chat with Kamekona and, hardly surprisingly, word reached the drug gang that 5-O were taking an interest in their operation. Whether or not Wo Fat was involved, the end result was someone taking a shot at Steve as he left home one morning. The shooter was obviously not a trained sniper, being too eager to take his shot and revealing his position in doing so. Steve fortunately saw a flash of sunlight on the gun barrel and dived behind his truck as the bullet whistled over his head. Danny, just emerging from the house, heard the shot and hit the floor. The fact that the bullet was so close that he was hit by flying splinters did nothing for his mood. 

Steve dismissed his complaints with a shrug, merely commenting that they were obviously onto something and were ruffling a few feathers. Danny agreed that feathers were indeed being ruffled, his included, but Steve was even more determined to put a stop to the drug operation. Between 5-O and HPD, they made a series of arrests but were no closer to catching the men at the top or linking the operation to Wo Fat. They did manage to extract some information but none of the leads proved worthwhile.  
By the end of May things had quietened down considerably and Danny began to relax a little. It was his weekend to have Grace and she came out to stay at the house, more than happy to do so because, as she told Danny, it was always exciting when she was with Uncle Steve. Danny had to bite his tongue at her innocent remark and, as soon as they arrived, he pulled Steve aside and made him promise to behave himself while his daughter was under his roof.

“Danno,” Steve protested, all wide-eyed innocence, “I promise there will be nothing more exciting than a little swimming, maybe some sandcastle building and a barbecue on the beach. Unless, of course, dolphin trainer Barbie goes AWOL again and we have to launch a search and rescue party.” Danny laughed at this piece of nonsense and pulled Steve in for a quick kiss.

“Thank you,” he said gratefully, which was precisely when the second attempt on Steve’s life occurred. The shot came from the ocean this time and was wildly inaccurate, kicking up the sand a good fifty feet away from them. Immediately on the alert, they both saw a jet ski pulling away at high speed. Danny rushed into the house to make sure Grace was okay and Steve grabbed his phone and called Chin but neither he nor Danny had had a good look at the perpetrator and red and black jet skis were not exactly uncommon.  
Danny knew it was unfair to blame Steve and refrained from saying anything but Steve felt guilty anyway. Gracie was the least perturbed, having been inside the house and totally unaware that the noise she had faintly heard had been a gunshot. Danny did not enlighten her and decided to keep to their weekend plans, not wanting to spoil things for his daughter or to give Rachel the opportunity to have yet another go at him. He was on edge the whole time, however, his eyes constantly scanning the area for hidden assassins and worrying whenever Grace was not within arm’s reach.

Steve watched him fretting and fuming and decided enough was enough. He started making plans for a major raid on the drug gang’s one remaining safe house, a plan already previously discussed and rejected as not worth the manpower or the risk to life and limb. Steve now arbitrarily reversed this decision, ignoring all the negative factors which had weighed against the raid in the first place. Monday morning he planned to set the wheels in motion and put Danny’s mind at ease for good. The rest of the weekend passed without incident and Danny took Grace back to Rachel’s on Sunday evening before returning to spend the night with Steve. 

Steve seemed preoccupied and Danny couldn’t shake the creeping horror of the thought that men were planning the death of the man he loved even while they drank beer and watched TV together. How many times was Steve going to escape by the skin of his teeth before catastrophe struck and Danny was robbed of his future? He knew he couldn’t keep Steve wrapped in cotton wool but, god, he wanted to! Finally giving up all pretense of carrying on as normal, he switched off the TV mid-programme and got to his feet. Surprised, Steve looked up at him and whatever he saw in Danny’s expression drew him to his feet, too. Danny didn’t say a word, just held out his hand and led Steve upstairs to the bedroom. He went willingly enough, looking rather confused but allowed Danny to take the lead.

Danny slowly stripped him, pausing after he removed each article of clothing to kiss him, on the lips, in the hollows of his collar bones, his chest, the soft skin on the inside of his elbows, even the back of his knees. There was such poignant tenderness in the kisses that Steve remained silent as Danny worshipped every inch of his naked body and then finally pushed him gently down onto the bed. Steve lay watching as Danny tossed his own clothes aside and then lay down beside him, pulling him close. He wrapped his arms around Steve and just held him, Steve’s head resting on his chest where he could hear the steady beating of his heart but could not see his face. He did not see Danny blink away the tears that blurred his vision or the way he gripped his lower lip in his teeth as he struggled with his emotions. Lulled by Danny’s warmth, Steve drifted into a light doze while Danny stared into the darkness and defied his demons.

Later, when the sky was beginning to lighten with the approach of dawn, Danny made love to Steve. Gentle caresses and soft kisses gradually transformed into heat and passion until, finally, Danny slid inside Steve’s willing body, pouring himself heart and soul into the man he loved more than life itself.

~

Steve called a team meeting first thing Monday morning and told them of his decision to go ahead and raid the last remaining safe house they knew about.

“No!” Danny was adamant in his refusal to agree to Steve’s plan to bring down the drug dealers. “We already discussed this, Steve,” he said, “and we all agreed it was not a good plan. The place is a fortress and, unless you intend to send in SWAT, all your SEAL buddies and maybe lob in a missile or two, it is a very bad idea!”

“You’re exaggerating as always,” Steve replied. “We made that decision early on but things have changed. We’ve picked up a lot of the foot soldiers, their numbers are down and I want them eradicated, Danny. I have no intention of allowing them to continue to threaten me and mine, and that includes Gracie. I did not like what happened at the weekend, Danny, and I’m not going to tolerate it any longer.”

“I concede you have a point,” Danny said reasonably, “and I am not happy about Gracie being in the line of fire, however accidentally, not happy at all, but let me state again - for the record and because you seem to have solid rock between your ears – the place is a goddamn fortress! Even if they are down to a handful of men, they can defend that place against an army.” Steve got a mulish look on his face and Danny knew he wasn’t going to win this argument by trying to reason with him.

“Find me a way in,” Steve said, mainly addressing the rest of the team and avoiding eye contact with Danny.

~

From: dwilliams@h50.hawaii.gov  
Sent: 30th June  
To: john@drjhwatson.co.uk

Subject: I am going to KILL him!

Sorry, John, but I am about to rant because seriously, I’ve just about had enough. Press delete without reading further if you have a weak constitution, although I know that’s not true or you wouldn’t be with TNJ!

Steve returned to active duty, not that he had been particularly inactive while his ankle healed, and promptly opened a can of worms. The worms (local drug dealers) were naturally armed and dangerous and decided their lives would be easier if one Lt. Cmdr. Steven J. McGarrett was not around to bother them. After two assassination attempts, both foiled because of their ineptness, Steve decided to ignore all my perfectly sound advice and beard them in their den. The results were not pretty:

Body count – 5 (all bad guys)

Wounded – 4 (2 bad guys, Steve and Kono – nothing serious but THAT’S NOT THE POINT!!!)

People pissed off with Steve – 1 (Kono, who was grazed by a bullet)

People REALLY pissed off with Steve – 2 (Chin and Jenna because Steve got Kono hurt. It was just a scratch but THAT’S NOT THE POINT!!!)

People REALLY, REALLY pissed off with Steve – 1 (yours truly because Steve got hurt. It was just a scratch but THAT’S NOT THE POINT!!! )

People who DO NOT understand why everyone else is pissed off – 1 (Steve)

Tell me again why I love this man. Better yet, tell me that I am crazy to love this man and that I should get out while the going is good! Seriously, John, you have to help me; how the fuck do you cope? Any pointers would be greatly appreciated ‘cos I give up!

D.

~

From: john@drjhwatson.co.uk  
Sent: 1st July  
To: dwilliams@h50.hawaii.gov

Subject: RE: I am going to KILL him!

Okay, Danny, take a deep breath and try to calm down. I empathise, truly I do, and I cannot deny that you are probably as crazy to love Steve as I am to love Sherlock but then we would also be crazy to give up on them. We both know that’s not going to happen, so let’s move on, shall we?

Drawing on my own experience, you really just have to keep trying to show Steve that he is important to you and that he now has someone in his life that he has to consider before he plunges head first into any dangerous situation. If he doesn’t care what happens to him, make him care about how you would feel if something happened to him. Try to make him admit to himself how he would feel if something happened to you so he then understands how you feel. But you have to be subtle about it or it could backfire. Trust me, you do not need to have the conversation where the love of your life will attempt to sacrifice your relationship to keep YOU safe from his idiocy. Because he’ll do just that if you’re not careful and think it is all for the best. He will not get the point that your relationship will survive normal stresses and strains (even those attached to a dangerous career) as long as he ceases to be an idiot and takes some elementary safety measures. Thinking twice is also a very good idea to try to instill into his thick skull. Good luck with that – I still haven’t had much success in that area!

They don’t get it, Danny, and they never will. You have the martyr complex to contend with, too, which they happily embrace because it’s ‘the right thing to do’, to give up the person they love to save them from the person they love, i.e. themselves. And then there’s the ‘You couldn’t possibly care about what happens to me, even though you say you do, because I know I’m totally unlovable and you’ll get tired of me eventually’ syndrome. DO NOT let Steve get away with any of this crap: just keep telling him you love him and you do care about what happens to him and that he needs to remember that, the next time he wants to go off chasing a psychopathic super villain on his own! Oh wait, that’s my fella - but it’s still a valid point.

Good luck, Danny. I’ll have my fingers crossed that you can make Steve understand.

John

PS If all else fails, threaten him with no nookie for the rest of his life!

~ 

From: dwilliams@h50.hawaii.gov  
Sent: 5th July  
To: john@drjhwatson.co.uk

Subject: Fireworks on Independence Day

Hi John! Thought you would like to know that Steve and I had the serious conversation yesterday along the lines of your advice and I do think I maybe got through to him just a bit. He was very contrite and spent a long time making it up to me, which was one helluva bonus but even the most spectacular BJ ever doesn’t make up for the sheer terror of watching your loved one get shot at. I’m not sure he gets that but he has promised to try. I am therefore saving the ‘no nookie’ threat for a more appropriate occasion. Gotta say I love that expression – ‘no nookie for you’, lol!

D.

~

From: john@drjhwatson.co.uk  
Sent: 10th July  
To: dwilliams@h50.hawaii.gov

Subject: RE: Fireworks on Independence Day

Hi Danny! Sounds like you have made some progress and contrition is a good first step, especially if it comes with a spectacular BJ! I never bought into that crappy idea of ‘love means never having to say you’re sorry’ – what twaddle! Love is ALL about saying you’re sorry and begging forgiveness and it’s also all about being prepared to forgive and forget. That’s not to say that, having been forgiven, one can then go and repeat the same actions and think saying sorry will fix it again. Saying sorry also implies ‘I’ll never do it again’ or, at the very least, ‘I’ll really try not to do it again’!

On that note, I am still waiting for Sherlock to apologise for the Moriarty trick he pulled. It’s almost a month now and even a super spectacular BJ is not going to be enough to compensate. This is one of those times when it is really hard to be the ‘normal’ one and not the extraordinarily brilliant one in this partnership. I never deploy the no nookie threat because that wouldn’t have any effect on Sherlock, as I well know. It may finally occur to him that he has made me unhappy and will seek to remedy that but he may never acknowledge that pursuing his work to the exclusion of all else has emotional fallout for the one person who truly cares for him. Still, I knew all this from the get go so I can’t really complain.

J.

PS I didn’t mean to imply that I would turn down a super spectacular BJ, or even a spectacular one; I’m not that daft and Sherlock is particularly talented in that area! TMI? Well, you brought up the subject in the first place!

~

From: smoothdog@gmail.com  
Sent: 10th July  
To: tocditw@tsod.com

Subject: Danny and John

Hey Sherlock - It surprises me that these two haven’t cottoned on to the fact that we know they are exchanging emails on a regular basis! I just wondered if you had seen the latest exchange? Since when did they talk about nookie and super spectacular blow jobs? I have to admit, I’m a little worried. Steve

PS It looks like I may be able to get my hands on evidence to prove Wo Fat killed my father but it seems the Governor is involved in some way. I need to retrieve an envelope from a locked bureau in her office and I’ve just figured out that I have the key amongst the stuff my father left me!

 

From: tocditw@tsod.com  
Sent: 11th July  
To: smoothdog@gmail.com

Subject: RE: Danny and John

Good morning, Steven! Would it ease your mind if I told you I do not share your concerns? I would be far more worried if they did not have each other with whom to communicate and commiserate. If I am correct in my deductions – and I usually am – there is very little to fear. Danny has found an outlet for all that pent up frustration and John is a calming influence, as I well know. You should, however, consider dealing with that pent up frustration yourself; might I suggest a ‘hands on’ approach?

On a personal note, I am delighted to hear that John would not turn down a super spectacular blow job and that he considers I have some skill in this area of expertise. It also appears, however, that I must atone for my errant behavior. How fortunate that he left me a clue as to how to make reparation!

Sherlock

PS Wo Fat is a very dangerous man and I advise you to be extremely careful in the way you approach this matter. Also, whilst I shall not attempt to deter you from your course of action, is breaking into the Governor’s office the best solution? Perhaps you should consider alternatives.

~

From: dwilliams@h50.hawaii.gov  
Sent: 15th July  
To: john@drjhwatson.co.uk

Subject: The shit has well and truly hit the fan!

John, I am at my wits’ end! There’s been a lot of stuff going on that I haven’t been able or even wanted to mention but Steve, me and the team are in serious trouble. Wo Fat is definitely behind it but we don’t have any proof yet. It’s too long and complicated and un-fucking-believable to go into details but Steve’s in jail charged with murdering the Governor, for Christ’s sake, Kono’s suspended and being investigated by Internal Affairs, Chin is back in HPD with a promotion (go figure? I still haven’t got my head round that one!) and I’m currently unemployed. Steve doesn’t want to see me or talk to me, which really, really sucks ‘cos he’s being all noble and ‘protecting’ me when all I want to do is just see him in the flesh and let him know we’re working on fixing this. Trouble is, I just don’t know how or where to start - and I miss him, John, so, so much. There’s this great gaping hole where he’s supposed to be.

What if I can’t prove he’s innocent? What if I can’t fix it? What the hell do I do then?

Danny

~

From: john@drjhwatson.co.uk  
Sent: 15th July  
To: dwilliams@h50.hawaii.gov

Subject: RE:The shit has well and truly hit the fan!

Whatever you do, don’t panic and don’t despair! Sherlock has an idea. I’ll be back in touch asap!

John

~

From: john@drjhwatson.co.uk  
Sent: 15th July  
To: dwilliams@h50.hawaii.gov

Subject: Help is at hand!

Danny, Call Naval Special Warfare Command in Coronado and ask for Lt. Cmdr. Joe White. If he’s not there, they’ll put you in touch, especially if you mention Steve’s name. Tell him everything. He was John McGarrett’s partner and is Steve’s old training officer and will be able to help, I’m sure.

Mycroft will speak to the deputy governor and try to defuse this. I have no idea how you did it but Sherlock must be very fond of you and Steve because nothing would normally persuade him to voluntarily contact his brother, never mind ask a favour of him!

And Danny, for god’s sake, go and see Steve in prison, no matter what he says!

Good luck and keep us informed on what’s happening. Sherlock says, and I quote, “Don’t make us have to come out there again!”

Not that I would object to another trip - but not under these circumstances.

John


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John turns for help to his second best friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A leap forward in time to post The Reichenbach Fall, so approximately a year later. Apologies for messing with the time line yet again!

From: john@drjhwatson.co.uk  
Sent: 19th May  
To: dwilliams@h50.hawaii.gov

Subject: What do I do now?

Danny

I don't know how to tell you this - I still don't believe it myself.

Sherlock is dead. He killed himself right in front of me. We buried him yesterday.

I'm sorry, I didn't mean to tell you so abruptly. Sorry, sorry.

I'm lost Danny. I'm so, so lost.

John

~

 

From: dwilliams@h50.hawaii.gov  
Sent: 20th May  
To: john@drjhwatson.co.uk

Subject: RE: What do I do now?

Do you want Steve and me to come there? We'll be on the first thing smoking if you say the word.

Danny

~

From: john@drjhwatson.co.uk  
Sent: 21st May  
To: dwilliams@h50.hawaii.gov

Subject: RE: What do I do now?

No, I couldn't possibly ask you to do that and I'm not sure I could handle it. Thank you for the offer, though; it means a lot.

J.

~

"Steve!" Danny yelled and heard the clatter as Steve hurtled down the stairs.

"What? What's the matter?" Steve was on full alert, the tone of Danny's voice making his hair stand on end. He was looking for his weapon when Danny emerged from the kitchen.

"Nothing's the matter," he said. "Well, no, that's not true but there's nothing the matter here. I've had another email from John."

"Oh." Steve relaxed and pulled Danny close with one long arm. "How's he doing?"

"I don't like the sound of things, babe; I think we should go to London. I still can't believe Sherlock's dead!"

"Neither can I. And I refuse to believe that shit in the British press! Moriarty or Wo Fat is behind this somehow."

"Yeah, that's what I think. I wish John had told us more but he's obviously a mess. We need to go over there and find out what the hell is going on."

"We can't both just take off, Danny, much as I want to help. Maybe you could go and, if there's any possible way, I'll come later."

"You wouldn't mind?" Danny stretched up and brushed a quick kiss across Steve's lips. "I don't want to leave you but I think one of us should go."

"So do I. You're closer to John so it should be you. We don't have anything too important on at the moment and who knows, you might dig up something useful while you're there. If you want to go, go; I'll take care of the paperwork."

“Wait, what? Did Steven McGarrett just offer to do paperwork?”

“Danny, now is not the time. Go ahead and book your flight to London.”  
~

 

From: dwilliams@h50.hawaii.gov  
Sent: 21st May  
To: john@drjhwatson.co.uk

Arriving Heathrow 12:15 p.m. on 24th, United Airlines. Meet me there.

Danny.

~

Danny was exhausted from the flight but one look at John waiting patiently in the arrivals area and he was glad he had come. John looked dreadful; there was no other word for it. He was smartly dressed as always and had a smile pinned to his face but his eyes were dead. The smile brightened and turned genuine when John saw him and Danny pushed his way past his fellow passengers and abandoned his luggage to wrap John in an all embracing hug. John was rigid in his arms, a faint tremor indicating to Danny just how close he was to the edge.

"Danny," he muttered. It seemed to be all he could manage so Danny took charge.

"Let's get outta here," he said in John's ear. He grabbed his case and carry-on and followed John out to the taxi rank. He was surprised when John gave the address as 221B Baker Street as he thought John had moved out. He was about to say something when John forestalled him.

"I haven't been back since the funeral but there's no room at my sister's and no privacy. I might be able to face it if you're with me. You can sleep in Sherlock's room." His voice trailed away and Danny watched as his throat worked and his eyes filled with tears. John struggled for control and then continued. "You shouldn't have come all this way, Danny, but I'm glad to see you."

"Isn't that what friends are for?" Danny said. John smiled sadly.

"Yes, yes it is," he agreed. "I never could persuade Sherlock of that." He ended with a gasp and turned his head to look out of the window. Danny watched him with worried eyes. This wasn't the John Watson he remembered and the enormity of his loss chilled Danny's heart. What if something happened to Steve?

As the taxi approached Baker Street, John became more and more tense. Danny was watching him carefully and, as the taxi pulled up, he patted John's leg.

"It'll be fine," he said softly. John paid the taxi driver and opened the door to 221 with his key. A diminutive woman appeared out of nowhere and threw herself at John.

"I knew you'd come back," she said enthusiastically. "It'll be alright, John, you'll see." She glanced at Danny and John introduced them.

"Mrs. Hudson, this is my friend, Detective Danny WIlliams, from Hawaii. Danny, this is our - my landlady, Mrs. Hudson."

"You've flown all the way from Hawaii?" Mrs. Hudson said. "You must be exhausted. I'll make some tea." She disappeared and John led the way upstairs. He stopped at the top and Danny just avoided colliding with him. He deposited his luggage on the landing and watched John carefully.

"I don't think I can after all," he said softly. "This was a bad idea, Danny. I'll take you to a hotel."

"Okay." Danny shrugged and picked up his cases again. As they turned to go back downstairs, Mrs. Hudson appeared with a tea tray in her hands.

"Did you forget your key, dear?" she asked. She handed the tray to John and opened the door to 221B before John could protest. "There you are," she said brightly, "nothing's changed. It's just the same as when you left."

"How can you be so bloody stupid? Everything's changed!" John yelled. "Oh my god, Mrs. Hudson, I'm sorry! I'm so, so sorry. I didn't mean - "

"That's okay, dear; I understand." She sounded tearful and turned away before John could say anything else. Danny glanced between them and decided to take matters into his own hands. He walked into the flat and put his cases down in the middle of the floor. John hung in the doorway, unwilling to set foot inside, so Danny took a moment to look around and give John time to compose himself. There were boxes stacked to one side neatly labeled ‘science equipment’ but everything else seemed untouched. Danny couldn't help but notice that there were traces of Sherlock everywhere. His violin was resting on a chair by a music stand, sheet music spread open on it. The ridiculous deerstalker was perched on top of a skull on the mantelpiece and there was a knife stuck through a pile of unopened letters at the opposite end.

John, meanwhile, had realised he was holding the tea tray and made his way to the table to deposit it there.

"Do you even drink tea?" he asked, managing a weak smile at Danny.

"Not usually and, truthfully, I could do with something a lot stronger right now."

"So could I. There should be some brandy around here somewhere." John wandered off into the kitchen and came back with a bottle and two glasses. "Couldn't find the brandy; I hope Scotch will do. Damn, there’s no ice. You’d want ice, right?"

“John, don’t worry; straight up is fine.” 

He poured two large measures and handed a glass to Danny. Danny perched on the edge of the sofa and John sat down in his habitual place in the armchair opposite without thinking.

"I am glad you came, Danny," he said after a moment. "I didn't think it was a good idea and it must have been a hell of a trip, but I'm so very glad to see you. How's Steve?"

"He's fine. Well, you know, he's still trying to leap tall buildings and throws himself out of moving vehicles with monotonous regularity but he was still in one piece when I left. He wanted to come, too, but we couldn't both leave at such short notice. He might be able to come later, though. He told me to tell you how sorry he is about Sherlock."

John stiffened when he heard the name and then made a visible effort to appear unmoved.

"Well, we should get you settled in," he said brightly and rose to his feet. Danny didn't move.

"I'll sleep right here," he said, patting the sofa. "It's comfortable and I'll be fine."

"Are you sure? Sherlock always complains - complained about it being too small." Danny laughed and ignored John as he bit his lip and looked away again.

"It might have been too short for him but I'll fit just perfectly." He smiled as he surprised a laugh out of John. "Hey, I know I'm vertically challenged," Danny added with a shrug, taking advantage of the lightening atmosphere. "Sherlock referred to it as my lack of stature, remember. Of course, he was referring to more than my height but he didn't think I'd be smart enough to figure that out. God, he was an arrogant bastard!"

"He was, wasn't he?" John said and, suddenly, the floodgates opened and John found he couldn't stop talking about Sherlock. He'd hardly spoken his name since the funeral but now he and Danny set off on a trip down memory lane about their trip to Hawaii. John's laughter might have been a little brittle, a little too loud, but Danny could see the tenseness gradually seeping away. Then he made a huge mistake.

"I still find it hard to believe that Moriarty survived that gunshot wound," he said. John froze and a look of such deadly hatred filled his eyes that Danny flinched.

"He's dead now," John said. "He shot himself before Sher - " He leapt to his feet and literally ran out of the room. Danny watched him go, mentally kicking himself for his stupidity. He heard John go upstairs and the bedroom door slam.

"Way to go, Danny," he muttered under his breath, wondering what he should do to fix things. There was nothing he could do; he knew that. He couldn’t ‘fix’ Sherlock being dead and John being devastated by his loss. Instead, he called Steve. The phone rang interminably and then he heard Steve mutter a sleepy hello. Shit, he’d completely forgotten the ten hour time difference! A glance at his watch confirmed it was just after 4 in the morning in Honolulu; he hadn’t adjusted it yet.

“Sorry, babe,” he said softly, not wanting to disturb John. “I just called to let you know I arrived in London safe and sound.”

“I’m glad you called,” Steve replied and Danny could see him in his mind’s eye; sleepy, hair mussed, probably wearing a ratty T-shirt. His heart swelled with emotion.

“I love you,” he said.

“What’s the matter?” Steve suddenly sounded wide awake. “Danny, are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine, honest. It’s just John; he’s in such a state and it got me thinking what it would be like for me if anything ever happened to you. I don’t think I could stand it, Steve.”

“Nothing’s going to happen to me, Danno. I know it’s hard for you, seeing John like that, but you’re a good friend. If anyone can help him, it’s you.”

“I’m not sure I can help him, babe. I can’t bring Sherlock back; no one can. Promise me – just promise me you’ll be careful until I get back.”

“Easy, Danny, okay, I promise.” Danny relaxed at Steve’s sincerity.

“Okay; go back to sleep. I’m sorry I woke you.”

“It’s fine; I’m glad you called. Oh, and Danny –“

“What?”

“I love you, too.” The words were said in a rush and Steve immediately hung up, but Danny grinned at his phone in delight. And then he remembered John.

The flat was silent and Danny sat and sipped his drink, hoping John would return. When he didn’t reappear after ten minutes, Danny went in search of him. He was diverted a couple of times by some rather oddball features of the flat. The smiley face with bullet holes in it made him stare for a while but then he made his way upstairs and tapped on what he assumed was John’s bedroom door.

“John, are you okay?” There were some noises off and then John said,

“I’m fine, Danny; I’ll be down in a minute. Help yourself to another drink if you want.” 

“I’m still working on the first, considering it’s big enough to float the Titanic, but thanks. Take your time, I’ll be downstairs.”

He wandered back downstairs and explored a little more, fascinated by the glimpses into John and Sherlock’s life. Sherlock was definitely a bit weird, but then he’d known that the first time he’d laid eyes on him.

John reappeared a few minutes later, looking composed.

“I’m sorry,” he said politely,”I didn’t mean to abandon you like that. Are you hungry? I can order some take out.”

~

From: dwilliams@h50.hawaii.gov  
Sent: 26th May  
To: smoothdog@gmail.com 

Hi Steve! John seems to be doing a bit better now. He can even say Sherlock’s name without disintegrating, which is a huge step forward. I admit I was getting a wee bit impatient with him, not that he knew that, but now I know the whole story I am just stunned that he can function even close to normally!

We’ve talked about what happened and no wonder he’s traumatized! I know I’d be in a much worse state than him if you’d done what Sherlock did! Moriarty was behind the whole debacle as we suspected but, unfortunately, that’s the end of that lead as he shot himself before Sherlock committed suicide. There’s a link there but we don’t know what it is. Something doesn’t feel right about this whole mess; my gut is telling me we don’t know the half of what was going on and John agrees with me. It’s hard to discuss this with him because he still gets very emotional when we talk about Sherlock but he’s beginning to analyze the facts and nothing adds up. He’s gone off to talk to someone called Molly Hooper at St. Bart’s Hospital. In the meantime, could you email me the old case file that Sherlock worked on, please?

I miss you!

Danny

~

From: smoothdog@gmail.com  
Sent: 27th May  
To: dwilliams@h50.hawaii.gov

Hey Danno! Here’s the file you asked for, although I don’t know how it will help. I’ve sent everything so I got Kono to compress it into a zip file as it’s pretty big. I’m glad to hear John’s doing better. When are you coming home?

Steve

~

From: dwilliams@h50.hawaii.gov  
Sent: 30th May  
To: smoothdog@gmail.com

Hi Steve! Thanks for the file – you’re right, it’s huge but John is going over everything with a fine tooth comb. He has a theory but he isn’t sharing as yet. If there’s no chance you can get away, I’ll be back next week. I’m thinking of trying to persuade John to come with me. You don’t mind if he stays with us, do you?

Danny

~

John woke up to bright daylight shining through the bedroom window. He’d forgotten to close the curtains again, just fallen into bed after midnight and slept soundly for the first time in weeks. A glance at the clock revealed he’d slept for ten hours straight. He could hear noises off and his heart leapt – Sherlock! And then his brain came online and he remembered Sherlock was dead. His breath caught in his throat and he had to blink hard a few times but he regained control quickly. He could smell coffee and his brain reminded him that Danny was staying with him. That spurred him to get up and shower, ready to start another day of searching through the old case file. There was something in it, if he could only find it. Something elusive, just out of reach, but his gut was telling him there was a clue there somewhere.

He came downstairs to find Danny sitting in the kitchen drinking coffee and looking at his laptop. He smiled at John.

“Good morning, sleepyhead!” John poured himself some coffee and leaned over Danny’s shoulder to see what he was reading.

“I haven’t slept like that since – well, for ages,” he commented.

“That’s good,” Danny replied. “I’m sure you needed it. Feeling better?”

“Well rested, at least. Why are you looking at the British Airways website?”

“I was looking to see if there were any extra seats on my flight to L.A. Steve and I want you to come back to Hawaii with me.” John opened his mouth to say no but Danny was quicker. “And before you say no, hear me out. If you’re right and there’s something about the old case that will give us a clue to what’s really going on, you’d be better off in Oahu than here in London. Secondly, you need a vacation and a change of scene would do you good. And I have to leave next week; I can’t stay any longer but I’d rather you were with Steve and me than on your own. What d’ya say?”

“I don’t know, Danny,” John said slowly. “I’ll have to think about it.”

“Well, think about it while I book you a ticket!” John bit off a laugh but shook his head.

“Don’t do that just yet,” he said. “Let me see if I can take the time off from the clinic first.”

“So you’ll come?”

“Maybe; I’d like to see Steve and everyone again but I’m not sure I could handle being back there without Sherlock.”

“It’ll be fine,” Danny said gently.

“But I should be here in case . . . no, you’re right, I have to accept that Sherlock isn’t coming back and it’s just stupid to hope he’ll walk through the door someday.”

“So I’ll book the ticket then?”

“No, don’t do that. I have a better idea!” He picked up the phone and hit speed dial. Danny pretended not to listen but couldn’t avoid a look of amazement as he heard John’s side of the conversation.

“Mycroft! John Watson. I’m fine, well not fine but okay. I need a favour. Detective Williams from Hawaii is here at the moment. Yes, of course you know that, why do I bother telling you anything? I’m going to fly back to Honolulu with him, just for a while. You’ll arrange it? Thank you, I knew you would.” He hung up and looked at Danny.

“First class all the way,” he said with a grin.  
~


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John finds himself helping 5-0 with a case and discovers an old acquaintance.

Steve was waiting impatiently at the arrivals gate at Honolulu airport. Danny and John’s plane had just touched down and Steve was very eager to see Danny again. He also had a tidbit of news for John, which he hoped would help him in his recovery from the loss of Sherlock. It was an odd coincidence that he should have discovered the information on the same day that John was due to arrive back in Hawaii. He glanced at his watch again, wondering why it was taking so long and then he saw Danny and John walking towards him. Danny was grinning madly and it took all of Steve’s self control not to grab him and kiss him there and then. John looked tired and older but he smiled at Steve and shook his hand with his usual friendly warmth.

 

“Welcome back, John,” Steve said sincerely. “I’m just sorry it’s not under better circumstances.”

 

“Thanks, Steve,” John said. “I hope I’m not imposing but Danny insisted I should stay with you and not in a hotel.”

 

“We wouldn’t hear of such a thing,” Steve said and then turned to welcome his partner home. He returned Danny’s grin with one of his own and pulled him into a hug.

 

“Hi,” he said softly into Danny’s ear, “I missed you.”

 

“I missed you, too, babe,” Danny said, hugging him back hard enough to force a protest. Steve grabbed John’s bag from him and they headed out to the car park and piled into Steve’s truck.

 

“So, what have the bad guys been up to while I was gone?” Danny asked as they pulled out into traffic.

 

“Not much, actually; it’s been pretty quiet for the last two weeks. A couple of armed robberies, a kidnapping and there’s an interesting blackmail case, which is still ongoing. I’ll brief you properly tomorrow but tonight we are going to get John settled in, have dinner and relax.”

 

“Sounds like a plan,” Danny replied. “That okay with you, John?” John was gazing out of the window at the scenery and Danny had to nudge him.

 

“Sorry, what did you say?” he asked.

 

“Steve was suggesting we just stayed home and had dinner tonight.”

 

“Yes, that would be good,” John said absently, his eyes fixed on the beach where he and Sherlock had gone for an early morning walk. He could see Sherlock so clearly in his mind’s eye; the beautiful cream suit and dark blue shirt, the sunglasses, the way all eyes followed him. Danny and Steve glanced at each other but refrained from saying anything more.

 

Steve drove to their house and showed John the guest room. John blinked a little when he saw it.

 

“I’m sorry about the décor,” Steve said, “but this is where Gracie stays when she comes to visit and she chose the colour.”

 

“It’s fine,” John said.

 

“It’s pink,” Steve responded, “it’s very, very pink.”

 

 _“Pink!” Sherlock shouted up_ _the stairs at Lestrade._ John blinked and forced himself to concentrate.

 

“It’s all fine,” he said with a smile.

 

Steve showed him the bathroom and left him to unpack. He headed for the master bedroom, where Danny was already efficiently sorting the contents of his suitcase. Steve wrapped his long arms around him from behind and pulled him close, burying his nose in the nape of Danny’s neck. Danny relaxed against him, wrapping his hands around Steve’s forearms and holding on tight.

 

“Poor John,” Steve whispered. “He’s a mess.”

 

“He’s much better than he was,” Danny murmured back, “and I don’t blame him for being a mess. I keep thinking how I would react if the same thing had happened to you.”

 

“Don’t think about it, Danno,” Steve said. “It’ll drive you crazy.” He pulled himself away with an effort. “I’m gonna go light the barbecue and start the steaks,” he said, “because if I stay here any longer there won’t be any dinner for John.” Danny laughed and kissed him quickly.

 

“Good idea. I’ll grab a shower and be down soon.”

 

~

 

Steve, Danny and John were sitting looking out at the ocean. Dinner was over and they were each nursing a beer. John was fighting sleep but he didn’t want to go to bed just yet, trying to combat the jet lag. Danny was in the same state but he had more reason to want to go to bed. Steve lounged beside him, his eyes on his partner and a hopeful expression on his face. John looked at them and felt a pang of guilt that he was intruding on Danny’s first night back home. It was followed swiftly by an agonising pang of terrible loss and he got to his feet.

 

“I’m going to talk a stroll on the beach,” he said by way of explanation. “It’s okay; I’ll be fine. Don’t wait up.” He winked at Danny and wandered off before they could protest.

 

“We should go after him,” Danny said worriedly.

 

“I don’t think so; let him be, Danny. He’s gone off down memory lane and he’s being very tactful about leaving us alone. Let’s go to bed.” He got to his feet and held out his hand. Danny grasped it and allowed himself to be pulled out of his chair and dragged (fairly gently) to their bedroom. Steve couldn’t keep his hands off him and Danny soon forgot John was down on the beach. An armful of naked Steve McGarrett tended to do that to a guy.

 

John strolled along the water’s edge, his mind full of memories of when he and Sherlock had been here at Steve’s party. That had been the night Danny and Steve first got together, and Sherlock had been a major instigator behind that event. This was also where Sherlock had declared himself to John in his own unique fashion. He could hear the quiet words as if they had been spoken aloud.

 

_“I find myself wishing to be alone with you, John.”_

 

John retraced their steps, watching the moon silvering the ocean as he had that night.

 

 _“Shall we walk?”_ Such a simple question, murmured in Sherlock’s wonderful voice, but there had been so much more hidden behind it. It was that moment when their relationship had shifted and settled into something much less ephemeral, much more permanent. John had recognized it at the time. If he had only known they would have just over a year to share together . . . John’s train of thought screeched to a halt. Even if he had known, he wouldn’t have changed his mind. A year with Sherlock was worth everything; all the pain, all the heartbreak. A quote popped into John’s head, although he couldn’t remember who had said it: ‘Grief is the price we pay for love’. Well, he had loved and been loved greatly and his grief was a perfect reflection of that. The thought was comforting and John felt a sense of peace settle around him. He would still grieve for Sherlock but the raw anguish was somehow soothed here on the beach.

 

A gentle breeze sprang up across the ocean and John turned his face towards it, letting the soft, warm air caress his skin. It felt like warm breath and he was suddenly very aware of Sherlock’s presence, as if he was standing by his shoulder.

 

“Sherlock,” he whispered, reaching out a hand. “I miss you so much. Please come back to me.”

The wind sighed around him and ruffled his hair. John waited, holding his breath, but the only sound was the gentle susurration of the ocean waves, the only movement the palm fronds swaying in the breeze. It had been a forlorn hope and John was not one to believe in ghosts; his mind knew Sherlock was gone but his heart would not allow him to give up hope. John sighed and eventually turned back towards Steve’s house.

 

~

 

The next morning, Steve and Danny were late getting up and John set about making breakfast. He had made coffee and was busy with scrambled eggs and toast when they emerged. John didn’t look too closely, not wanting to see their happiness and refusing to resent it. Instead, he smiled brightly and said,

 

“I hope you don’t mind but I rummaged around a bit in the kitchen.”

 

“We don’t mind,” Danny said, “not when breakfast is ready and waiting for us.” They helped themselves and fell on the food as if starved. John had to smile at their enthusiasm, so different from the way he had always had to cajole Sherlock into eating anything.

 

“So what’s on the agenda for today?” John asked.

 

“Well, I have to go back to work,” Danny said. “Would you like to come into HQ with us? Kono and Chin will be there and we have a new member of the team, Lori Weston. I believe I told you about her joining us after Jenna left.”

 

“Yes, I remember. I’d like to see Kono and Chin again but what would I do there? I wouldn’t want to be underfoot.”

 

“Actually, I think we could use your help,” Steve said. “I mentioned the ongoing blackmailing case and I’ll brief you and Danny when we get there, but there’s something about it that might interest you. I’m not sure if there’s anything to it but it’s the sort of puzzle that would have intrigued Sher –ow!” Steve glared at Danny, who was looking innocently at John. “You kicked me!” Steve added, rubbing his shin.

“Did I?” Danny said. “Must have been a reason.”

 

John bit off a laugh and said,

 

“Listen, I know I’ve been pretty messed up for a while but you don’t have to pussyfoot around me anymore. I’m feeling better since I came here. It was a good idea, Danny, and I’m grateful you made me come. You were going to say this was a case that would have interested Sherlock, right Steve?”

 

“Yes, I was. I’m glad you’re feeling better, John, because you’re the next best thing to having Sherlock here. What’s that look for?” Steve ended indignantly as Danny rolled his eyes. He merely shook his head and smiled at John.

 

“You’ll have to forgive him; he’s not big on considering other people’s feelings.”

 

“That’s okay; it’s not like Sherlock was Mister Sensitivity personified,” John replied. “I meant it when I said I feel better here so stop worrying about it, please. Tell me, what’s so interesting about this case?”

 

“Let’s head out and I’ll explain it all when you can see the evidence.”

 

They cleared up the breakfast dishes and John retrieved his laptop before they set out for the 5-O headquarters. As they headed into town, John felt a growing sense of excitement: working a case with the 5-O team would be the perfect distraction from his morbid thoughts and, if his last experience was anything to go by, he could be in for quite an adventure.

 

~

 

Chin and Kono were delighted to see John and Steve introduced him to Lori. Instinctively, John turned on the charm and Lori was enchanted with him. She was very different to Jenna but seemed competent to John. They gathered around the computer table and Chin brought up the details of the case on the big screens. Steve took the floor and explained the case.

 

“We were contacted by the Governor after it was discovered that several high-ranking officials, top businessmen and politicians had all been approached separately and told that certain information, including compromising photographs and the like, were up for sale. The potential for massive scandal is obvious and the Governor wants the people behind this stopped. So far, we know the names of two people who may be involved – Sebastian Moran and Mrs. Norton – no first name on her as yet. We haven’t been able to discover much else about them but a couple of apparently unrelated incidents might give us a lead. Chin, can you bring up the photos?” Chin did so and John’s jaw dropped. The first was of Wo Fat and an attractive woman having lunch; the second was the same woman with a stranger; Wo Fat could be seen in the background of this second photograph. The woman was wearing a different outfit, so presumably the photographs had been taken at different times but the connection with Wo Fat was obvious. There was no doubt in John’s mind of the woman’s identity, even though he could hardly believe his eyes.

 

“That’s Irene Adler,” he said. “She’s supposed to be dead but there’s absolutely no doubt that’s her.”

 

“Who’s Irene Adler?” Steve asked.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John has a theory about the case.

John took a deep breath and told them a carefully censored version of the story of ‘the woman’. He finished by saying, “I think we can all agree that the only conclusion to draw is obvious: Wo Fat is trying to take over Moriarty’s criminal network, if he hasn’t already done so. I’m afraid I don’t recognize the other man. I’m assuming that’s Moran but I know nothing about him.”

“He’s associated with Mrs. Norton – I mean Irene Adler – and she appears to have introduced him to Wo Fat but that’s not confirmed,” Chin replied. “They arrived in Hawaii on the same day but separate flights and they’ve disappeared off the radar since then. We had no reason to watch them and it’s only because we maintain routine surveillance on Wo Fat that we happened to get these photographs soon after he arrived back in the country. That was a week ago and the blackmail threats started soon afterwards.”

“I’m pretty sure that has a lot to do with Irene Adler,” John said. “It has her M.O. written all over it, although I wouldn’t have thought she would have demanded money. She usually wants influence or to be able to call in a favour, rather than resort to straight blackmail. Perhaps Moran is running this particular operation and she just provided the information.”

“Wo Fat is running the operation, have no doubt of that,” Steve replied. “He may not be hands on but he’s behind this somehow.”

“Moriarty was never hands on either,” John said. “He never wanted to get his hands dirty or leave a trail that would lead back to him. Sherlock described him as a spider in the centre of a criminal web and, now that he’s dead, it looks like Wo Fat wants the position. But it would be unwise to count out Irene – she could be a spider, too – a black widow. Wo Fat and Moran better watch out; they could end up being eaten alive!”

“We need to find out more about Moran,” Danny added. “He’s the complete unknown in this equation.”

“Yes, that’s a good next step,” Steve agreed. “Chin, Kono and Lori take Moran; Danny, John and I will see what we can find out about Irene Adler’s connection to him and Wo Fat.” John chewed his lip for a second and then nodded as if coming to a decision.

“I need to make a phone call,” John said. “If Irene Adler knew Wo Fat in the past, it would have been on her old camera phone. If it was, Mycroft will know. There might be something about Moran as well. One thing I do know, he’s not going to be very happy to discover she is alive.” He paused and looked at Steve. “Since it’s Mycroft, I’m afraid this is going to have to be confidential.”

“Go ahead,” Steve said. “Use my office if you like.” John nodded and went off to make his call. Danny and Steve watched from a distance, guessing from John’s body language how the conversation was going. It didn’t last long and John came back to the computer with a smirk on his face.

“Mycroft is sending the relevant information to me,” he said. “He is - how shall I put it? – somewhat aggravated to hear about Ms. Adler. He was the one who told us she was dead and he hates to be proved wrong.”

“So there is information about Wo Fat and Moran?” Danny asked.

“I don’t know yet. Mycroft is going to go through the files and send me anything relevant. He won’t send everything but that’s understandable; the information she had could wreak havoc if it fell into the wrong hands.”

“So does this mean she still has access to all of it?” Steve asked.

“No, I’m sure she doesn’t,” John answered. “The information on that phone was unique and she lost it when Sherlock figured out the password. That doesn’t mean she hasn’t acquired more; she’s had a year to start over after all.”

“But who on earth is she?” Danny asked. “And how does she get hold of this sort of information?”

John realized he was going to have to tell the whole story but Steve forestalled him. He had been conducting a search on the computer and Irene’s new website suddenly popped up on the big screen. Danny blinked and then he went a delicate shade of pink as Steve clicked on ‘Enter’ and the content of the website became more obvious. John knew what to expect and he was amused to see Danny and Steve’s reactions. Danny swallowed visibly and said,

“Well, that explains the blackmail material.” Steve was staring at the screen, looking intrigued.

“So she’s a dominatrix, is she?” he said. “You’re right, Danny, that’s where she’s able to get the compromising photographs, at least. Can we use this against her, do you think?”

“Unwise,” John said before Danny could do more than splutter. “At least, not until we have the blackmail material safely in our possession.”

An hour or so later, John received Mycroft’s email and quickly opened it, Danny and Steve leaning over his shoulder to read what he had said. 

‘Dear John, I thought you had gone on vacation for some well-deserved R&R! I am still somewhat confused by your request but have attached what information I could discreetly forward to you. Please treat it with the utmost confidentiality. I would advise you to stay far away from Ms. Adler but I am not in the habit of wasting my breath. I have no intention of pursuing her at this time but, should your investigation lead to information of interest to me, I trust you will share. Mycroft’

“That was quick,” John commented as he opened the first of the attachments. This was a report on Irene’s ‘death’ and John did no more than save it for the time being. “We can get to that later,” he explained, “but we know she’s alive so it’s hardly relevant.”

The second attachment was of much greater interest, being a detailed summary of Moran’s connection to Moriarty. It appeared that Moran was Moriarty’s natural successor; he had certainly been his right-hand man. John made a rude noise when he read that Moran was a sniper; both he and Sherlock had been at the other end of his laser sights on more than one occasion. John made a mental note to have a word or two with Moran when they caught him. He had absolutely no doubt that they would. The final attachment was fairly short and not terribly helpful but indicated that Moran had introduced Irene to Wo Fat, not the other way round as they had assumed. The reason for the introduction was unclear at first but some of Irene’s notes regarding Wo Fat made John’s hair stand on end.

“Oh my god!” he exclaimed. “Wo Fat is or was one of her clients!”

“That can’t be a coincidence,” Steve said. “Maybe Moran is playing a deep game with Wo Fat to see who takes over Moriarty’s network.”

“Makes sense,” Danny commented. “I’d say they were pretty evenly matched, wouldn’t you?”

“Irene’s the wild card,” John added. “She’ll side with whoever can serve her purposes best; although what those purposes are is anybody’s guess.”

Chin and Kono joined them at this point and were brought up to speed by Steve. Kono then took over and added what they had found to the information on Moran.

“He’s ex-SAS,” she said. “A qualified sniper who saw service in Iraq and Afghanistan. He was dishonourably discharged for his part in a drug smuggling ring and seems to have joined Moriarty soon afterwards. There’s no information on how the two of them met but he’s been involved in some unsavoury activities over the last two years. There’s never been enough evidence to bring him to trial as witnesses have a habit of disappearing. He was definitely Moriarty’s lieutenant and it would be logical for him to take over when Moriarty died.”

“His connection with Wo Fat could be to do with the drug smuggling,” Lori mused.

“That’s it!” John exclaimed and began typing rapidly on his laptop.

“What’s it?” Danny asked. “John, what are you thinking?”

“The case,” John said distractedly. “The case we worked with you last year. We didn’t get Wo Fat or Moriarty but the captain of the freighter gave a statement and – here it is – he kept talking about Moriarty in the plural. We thought at the time that it was just his poor English but what if he meant there was more than one? What if Moran had been there, too?”

“Moran was on the dock?” Steve asked.

“How else did Moriarty and Wo Fat escape?” John demanded. “We knew nothing about Moran at the time but he could have been there. Sherlock was targeted by a sniper and we caught the man we thought it was but it could have been Moran all along.”

“It’s going to be hard to prove but it makes a lot of sense,” Danny said. “Wo Fat must have met Moran then if not before, which makes the involvement of this Adler woman even more confusing.”

“And it still doesn’t explain the blackmailing scheme,” Chin added. “Why draw attention to themselves in such a fashion?” They all looked at each other but no-one could come up with a plausible theory.

“Let’s take a short break,” Steve said. “We need to think this through and follow up on any leads that occur to us. And we need to locate Moran and Ms. Adler, get them under surveillance. If they are behind the blackmail, then we need to get sufficient evidence to be able to arrest them and without any of this becoming public. If we can tie Wo Fat to the blackmail, too, then that’s an added bonus.”

~

John was sitting at a desk gazing blankly at his laptop’s screensaver. The team had all dispersed to their own offices to start the search for Moran and ‘Mrs. Norton’, checking hotels, all ports of exit, contacting informants, doing the regular police work to track down suspects. John was mentally reviewing the information, puzzling over the details. What would Sherlock do? Time and again, the thought rose to the surface of his mind but the answer eluded him. _“Think, John, think!”_ Sherlock’s voice prompted him. _“As always, you see but do not observe.”_

And then it came to him. He got up and knocked on the door of Steve’s office. Steve was on the phone but waved him in. He hung up and John said,

“How did you find out about the blackmail?”

“The Governor called me about it. There had been an anonymous tip and further enquiries revealed the extent of it.”

“And there were no leads to the source?” John asked.

“We assumed it was one of the victims trying to be discreet. Why? Where are you going with this?”

“I’m just following up on a thought; it might be nothing. How was the tip given? A phone call, a note, what?”

“It was a call to the Governor’s office. We tried to trace it but without success.” John frowned.

“Was it recorded? Do we know if it was a man or a woman?”

“I have the recording here but the caller used a voice changer so we couldn’t i.d. them.” Steve led the way back to the computer table and brought up the recording. The voice was unrecognizable, even after the message had been scrubbed, but the content made John sit up and take notice: ‘You should know that someone has information about a lot of powerful people; damaging information. Someone wants to become very rich, very quick. You should look close to home, people at the top, people who have something to hide. People who wouldn’t want the world to know what they like.’

“It couldn’t possibly be her!” John exclaimed. “Why would she tip you off?”

“Her?” Steve asked. “You mean Irene Adler? Why would you think it was her?”

“I might be wrong but it’s too much of a coincidence. If it’s not her then it’s someone who knows her very well.”

“John,” Steve said, “you’re not making sense. Why do you think the voice belongs to Irene Adler?”

“I’m pretty sure she didn’t make the call,” John answered, “it sounds more like a man’s voice; maybe Moran? The voice isn’t important, the message is and she must have something to do with it. She had a little catch phrase she used all the time. When Sherlock and I questioned her she said it a couple of times: ‘I know so-and-so; well, I know what he likes’. I don’t believe in coincidence so it’s either her behind the tip or someone who wants us to think so.”

“Great! That’s the first concrete clue we’ve discovered. Now we need to find her and question her.”

Steve called the team together and explained John’s theory. So far, they hadn’t been able to trace either Moran or Norton/Adler but the realization that they were on the right track added extra incentive. Instead of hoping Moran and Norton were the people behind the blackmailing, based solely on their meetings with Wo Fat shortly before the blackmailing began, now, thanks to John, they knew this was more than a hunch. And knowing that Mrs. Norton was Irene Adler and her history also helped considerably. Steve smiled with satisfaction as he spelled it all out and Danny elbowed him sharply.

“Ow, what was that for?” he demanded, rubbing his side.

“You’re taking all the credit,” Danny said. “John has cracked this case wide open and it was my idea to bring him here, so why are you looking so damn smug?”

“It was my idea to ask him about the case,” Steve protested. Danny just rolled his eyes. John, meanwhile, had missed this exchange, although Chin, Kono and Lori were highly amused. John was deep in thought again and Steve shooed everyone away to continue the search for the suspects. He perched on the side of a desk and waited for John to unravel the next step.

John was still missing something, he was sure of it. He could understand Wo Fat blackmailing politicians and the like; he could even hazard a guess as to Moran’s motivation but Irene Adler didn’t fit into the picture. She had probably met Moran through Moriarty and definitely met Wo Fat through Moran but her connection to Wo Fat was different. If he really was a client – and John had no reason to doubt the information Mycroft had sent him – then she had the advantage over him. Why then was she working with the two of them? And why would she have tipped off the authorities?

_“When you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth.”_

Sherlock’s favourite saying surfaced and John let it settle into his mind. What about this situation was impossible? John looked at the facts from every angle and he kept coming back to Irene’s motivation. Just why was she taking the risk of being involved with Moran and Wo Fat? What did she have to gain? If they weren’t already locked in a power struggle to take over Moriarty’s organisation, then they soon would be. Providing blackmail material so that either of them could extract money from Hawaii’s elite was not what she would do. She would use the information she had to ‘make her way in the world’ but she wouldn’t just volunteer her power base to men she didn’t really know and certainly didn’t trust. So what was she playing at? It was a dangerous game, whatever it was. If Wo Fat and Moran didn’t form an alliance, which was an unlikely scenario, then they would be on opposite sides and Irene would be crushed between them. John knew she was far cleverer than that so what was her game plan? Could she outwit these two titans of the criminal world? Of course she could; she had outwitted Sherlock after all. She wouldn’t be crushed between them; she would wait on the sidelines while they destroyed each other!

Improbable, yes, but not impossible: almost as improbable as her tipping off the authorities! John chewed on his lip and debated about his theory. Either Irene had called or someone who knew her extremely well had done so. If it was Irene, she was risking arrest to alert the police to Moran and Wo Fat’s activities and, despite her ability to wheel and deal, John didn’t think she would go that far. If it was someone else who wanted to stop Wo Fat and Moran, then they had successfully concentrated the 5-O task force’s considerable resources on the problem and used Irene Adler’s presence to do so: someone who knew Irene very well, how she thought, what she would do, how she would protect herself. John gasped as the obvious answer, however improbable, came to him.

“John?” Steve asked, startled, as John leapt to his feet.

“We have to talk to Irene Adler,” John said. “No, I have to talk to her. Where the hell is she hiding?”

“We’ve got everybody looking for her and Moran,” Steve said, trying to soothe John’s obvious agitation. “We’ll find something soon, I’m sure.”

“It’s absolutely critical I talk to her first,” John said. “And we should avoid tipping off Moran if we do find her; or her if we find Moran first. I don’t want them talking to each other.”

“Are you going to explain this any time soon?” Danny asked as he joined the conversation.

“It’s just a theory,” John said, backpedalling rapidly. “I have an idea but it’s way out there; it’s so improbable, I can scarcely believe it myself. Once I talk to Irene, I’ll know more and then I’ll explain.”

“But - ?” Steve started to ask another question and Danny interrupted, speaking over him.

“That’s fine, John, we’ll wait until you have it all worked out. You haven’t steered us wrong yet. I came to tell you, we have a lead."


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John is certain he has a clue what is going on, only to be proved wrong and face disappointment.

Irene Adler was keeping a low profile. She was not precisely hiding but she was not in the mood for extraneous demands for explanations. Jim Moriarty was dead and the two imbeciles fighting over what was left of his criminal network were making a terrible mess of things. The network was not at all what it had been under Jim’s control. Key members of the organization had disappeared without trace; allies were turning against each other and the final coup de grace was not far off if Irene had anything to do with it. She had watched from the sidelines as the network was carefully picked apart by some very clever people, although she did not know whom, until there were only two protagonists left - Sebastian Moran and Wo Fat. She despised them both and had spun her own web around them, a fabrication of lies, half-truths, some facts and some irresistible temptation. They would destroy each other soon, she was sure, if only the Governor’s task force would stay out of it for a little while longer.

It was tedious having to stay in Hawaii, lovely though it was, but it was Wo Fat’s territory and Moran had ventured there when things got too hot in London. Someone other than Irene was out for blood, too, and Irene wished she knew who it was. She had suspected Mycroft Holmes for a while, and it seemed he had possibly assisted on more than one occasion, but he was not the driving force behind the witch hunt to destroy Moriarty’s brainchild. Whoever it was, they had driven Moran out of England and cut him off from all but the Hawaiian connection. Now she planned to finish their work for them. She hated being indebted to anyone, much preferring to be the one holding the upper hand, but she owed Sherlock Holmes her life and she intended to repay the debt. The fact that he was dead did not deter her, only made her more determined. Moriarty had destroyed Sherlock and, since Moriarty had denied her the chance to repay the compliment, she would help destroy his empire in return. It was not revenge for Sherlock’s death, it was just restoring the balance. She told herself that as often as was necessary when the memory of the consulting detective became a little too intrusive.

Her plan had been going well, the pieces falling into place, and then someone tipped off the Governor about the blackmailing scheme far too early in the game. She could not discover who had done so but it had complicated matters. The 5-O team had been making waves and Moran was running scared and had gone to ground. Wo Fat was much more confident but he did have home field advantage. Irene had adapted her plan to accommodate the involvement of the task force but she felt she was beginning to lose control of events. She had needed more time before she had finally turned Moran and Wo Fat against each other, playing on their suspicions and innate distrust of one another. She needed to step away now before she got caught in the maelstrom; she knew it but, perversely, she wanted to be in at the kill. So she stayed and found herself outplayed for only the second time in her life.

She was staying in a small bed and breakfast in Kaneohe and usually walked to a little restaurant called Honey’s to eat lunch if she wasn’t downtown in Honolulu or dining with Wo Fat. She had abandoned her glamorous persona along with the name Adler and had become just another British tourist, the penurious Mrs. Norton, who hid her figure under a muumuu and watched her pennies. The staff at the restaurant soon recognized her and remembered what she liked to drink and which table she preferred and she felt safe enough to relax her watchfulness while she was there. She was gazing out over Kaneohe Bay when an English voice asked her if the seat opposite was taken. As there were plenty of empty tables, Irene quickly decided on just how she would avoid being chatted up by the stranger before she even raised her eyes from the menu.

“I’m expecting someone,” she said and glanced up in annoyance when the intruder sat down opposite her anyway. Her heart stopped for a moment and she struggled to maintain her composure. She took a breath and glanced around the restaurant, noting the strangers strategically place at each exit. Tall, dark and handsome was near the front door; short, blond and handsome was hovering near the kitchen. Irene glanced between them and made a mental note: they were together – interesting. There was a pretty little blonde lounging by the ladies’ room and a Hawaiian couple at a table nearby. Irene’s eyes lingered briefly on the exquisite Hawaiian girl.

She gave a tiny shrug, accepting the situation, and smiled into the eyes of the man opposite her.

“Hello Doctor Watson,” she said calmly.

“Not who you were expecting, Ms. Adler?” John asked pleasantly but Irene wasn’t fooled. “Although I seriously doubt you were expecting anyone,” he added, looking pointedly at the single place setting on the table.

“Correct on both counts,” Irene replied. “But, since you are here, would you care to join me for lunch?”

“I’ll pass,” John said, “I have more important things on my mind.”

“Like what?”

“Like what you’re doing in Hawaii and what is your connection to Sebastian Moran and Wo Fat?”

Irene didn’t react, although she was surprised John knew so much about her activities.

“Who told you I was here?” she asked. “The Iceman?”

“No, actually, I told him,” John said with a little smirk. “I would prefer to ask the questions, if you don’t mind. I’m sure you’ve noticed the heavy police presence and I can tell you they are just itching to slap some handcuffs on you. Something of a reversal of roles for you, wouldn’t you say?”

“And why aren’t they?”

“Because I’m not one hundred per cent certain you are actively involved with Moran and Wo Fat. If you can confirm that I’m right, then you may get to walk away a free woman. If you can convince me, I’ll put in a good word for you. ”

“Why on earth would you do such a thing?” Irene was genuinely interested. “I would have thought you would love to see me behind bars.”

“Until a few hours ago, I thought you were dead,” John replied. “I really don’t care one way or the other about what happens to you but I do need to know what you’re up to and if you’re working with or against the two gentlemen in question.” Irene nodded approvingly.

“You’re cleverer than you pretend to be,” she said, “but you would have to be for Sherlock to have bothered with you.”

“I would prefer not to discuss Sherlock,” John said softly but Irene was chilled by his tone all the same. This quiet man was not someone to underestimate. She nodded in acknowledgement.

“Would you believe me if I said I was working against them?” she asked.

“I might if you can give me a plausible explanation of your motivation for doing such a thing.”

“I could but you’ve forbidden me to discuss the subject.” She waited a beat for him to figure it out.

“You’re doing this for Sherlock?” John asked in a whisper. “Why?”

“Because he saved my life.”

“Oh, I see,” John said and then surprised Irene by laughing.

“I’m glad I amuse you,” she said frostily.

“You don’t amuse me at all,” John snapped back. “I was laughing because Mycroft said only Sherlock could have deceived him when it came to confirming the details of your death. He won’t be pleased when he finds out he was right. He’s already rather put out about you being alive, so be careful, Ms. Adler.”

“Point taken; he’s not a man to trifle with.”

“No, he’s not and he has a long memory.”

“He thinks I was trifling with Sherlock? No, that’s not it. Oh, I see; you’re the one who thinks that, aren’t you?”

“I haven’t forgotten either,” John said.

“But he won in the end.” Irene smiled at the memory and was startled when John leaned in close.

“He beat you eventually,” he hissed, “but he didn’t win in the end. Moriarty destroyed his reputation and then he destroyed him. That is not something to smile about.”

“No, it’s not and I was trying to repay the compliment,” Irene snapped back, betrayed into revealing herself. John leaned back, a satisfied look on his face.

“So you’ve been trying to destroy Moriarty’s network?” Annoyed at her slip, Irene shrugged.

“I don’t have the resources to do what has been done so far but I like to think I can do my part.”

“So you are trying to set Moran and Wo Fat against each other?”

“I admit it; neither of them deserve to take over from Moriarty, not even what now remains of his network. If someone hadn’t tipped off the authorities, I would have had them at each other’s throats.”

“So you didn’t make that call to the Governor’s office? Then who did?”

“I wish I knew,” Irene said. “I could have done without their interference.”

Irene glanced around again at the strangers. “I assume they are part of this task force I’ve been hearing so much about.”

“You’ll get your chance to meet them soon,” John answered. “They are very anxious to talk to you but I called in a favour and asked to speak to you first. You need to tell them everything you know about Wo Fat, Moran, Moriarty’s organization, the works; do you understand?”

“I do but I sense a caveat to that speech.”

“I can’t guarantee your freedom if you’re involved in the blackmail or if you lie to them. So, Ms. Adler, what’s it to be?” Irene sighed.

“I made a mistake, I admit it. I have certain information in my possession and I was stupid enough to share some of it with Moran. I needed protection and I thought he could provide it.”

“Protection from Wo Fat?” John asked shrewdly.

“You’re more like him than you realize,” Irene said and, when John frowned, she added, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you, it was meant as a compliment. Yes, I needed protection from Wo Fat but, instead, Moran devised this stupid blackmailing scheme and presented it to Wo Fat as a means of ingratiating himself. I advised against it but there you have it.”

“Okay. Do you know where Moran is?” Irene shook her head.

“The last I heard, he was staying somewhere near Ala Moana in a rented studio apartment. I don’t know exactly where.”

John leaned back and caught Steve’s eye. He and Danny strolled over and joined them at the table.

“Ms. Adler,” John said, “meet Commander Steve McGarrett and Detective Danny Williams of the Five-O task force. Steve, Danny, this is Irene Adler. She is willing to co-operate if you will offer her immunity - and protection.” Irene looked startled as she hadn’t been expecting that.

“We can certainly offer her protection,” Steve said. “Immunity will depend on the level of co-operation and the amount of her involvement.”

“I’m satisfied she isn’t involved in any criminal activity with respect to the blackmailing scheme,” John replied. “If she admits to anything else, then I leave it to your discretion.”

“Fair enough,” Steve said as he beckoned to Lori, Kono and Chin. “Ms. Adler, if you would go with Officer Kalakaua and Lieutenant Kelly, they will accompany you back to headquarters and take your initial statement; I’ll want to speak to you later myself.”

Irene rose to her feet and looked Kono up and down, a small smile on her lips.

“No handcuffs?” she asked. John cleared his throat meaningfully and Irene glanced down at him.

“Behave,” he said severely. Irene laughed and turned to go.

“Lori, you follow them,” Steve ordered. “Be on the alert, just in case Wo Fat or Moran has been tipped off we’ve found Irene. Danny and I still have another lead to follow with John.”

John got to his feet and was surprised when Irene held out her hand to him.

“Goodbye, Doctor Watson,” she said. “I doubt if our paths will cross again. Thank you for your assistance, even if I would have preferred to play my own game.” John shook her hand and was pleasantly surprised when she drew close and said in his ear, “Please believe me when I tell you I am truly sorry for your loss. He was a remarkable man.”

“Yes, he was,” John said. “Goodbye, Ms. Adler.”

~

John was tired. It had been a long, eventful few days but he could not rest. The net had closed around Moran and he was in custody awaiting extradition to the UK. Wo Fat seemed to have cut his losses after Irene was placed in protective custody and was currently on his way to Hong Kong, although that was probably not his final destination. This was all very satisfactory and the whole team and John had gone out to dinner and relaxed for the first time since John had arrived. They had drunk a little more than they should have and Steve and Danny had been in a celebratory mood when they arrived home. John envied them their happiness and had discreetly left them alone.

He’d gone out to the beach in front of Steve’s house. It was a beautiful night but, for once, John was not enjoying the tranquil scene. The pieces had slotted together so precisely that John could no longer deny himself the glimmer of hope he had been trying to suppress since he had deduced the source of the anonymous tip. He was waiting expectantly, his stomach churning with nerves. Surely, if he was right - and he had to be because he didn’t think he could bear it otherwise – if he was right, then he was about to witness the miracle he had begged for in his darkest hour. The time slipped by as he walked along the ocean’s edge, his whole being straining towards the anticipated resolution of his latest Hawaiian adventure. He eventually turned back, his certainty beginning to fade.

His heart leapt when he heard someone approaching. Taking a shaky breath, he turned slowly, his legs barely supporting him. His lips were already forming the name he was desperate to say as his eyes sought the figure in the dark: the short, blond figure in the dark.

“There’s a call for you,” Danny said, holding out the phone. “Are you okay, John?”

“I’m fine,” John managed to reply, taking the phone with a trembling hand. “I’m sorry for the interruption.” Danny’s face was in shadows but John could tell he was blushing. Pulling himself together, John smiled. “Go on back, Danny, it’s okay, I’m fine.”

Danny grinned and headed back to the house and John raised the phone to his ear.

“This is John Watson,” he said, pleased that his voice was steady.

“Hello John,” Mycroft said. “I’m sorry to call so late but I wanted to congratulate you.”

“This couldn’t have waited until morning?” John asked.

“No, I think not. You have done very well, John, under circumstances which I know have been rather trying.”

“Rather trying! That’s the understatement of the century, Mycroft. Just, please, tell me what you want and then leave me alone.”

“Tut, John, there really is no need to be so aggressive. Other than to pass on the congratulations of those who really matter in the great scheme of things, I want nothing. It’s probably time for you to return to London; I’ll make the arrangements.”

“No, you won’t! I’m staying here,” John snapped.

“And for how long will you prolong your stay?” Mycroft sounded totally disinterested, bored even, but then he never sounded any different to John, no matter what.

“I don’t know – I’m waiting for – I have to be here, don’t you understand?”

“I understand that you are overwrought and not thinking particularly clearly. There is nothing for you there, John; your place is in London. Do I make myself clear?”

“No, I don’t believe you! What aren’t you telling me?”

“I am not withholding anything, John. It’s not like you to succumb to paranoia; what information do you imagine I possess?”

“I thought that you – maybe he had – I don’t know what I thought!” John sighed heavily. “Mycroft, it’s late and I’m very tired. I’ve been putting in sixteen, twenty hour days since I got here. I’m going to take a couple of days for the R&R you thought I deserved and then I’ll be returning to London.”

“Very well; email me details of your departure date once you know it. And if you feel the need to book a hotel, I can take care of that, too.”

“Why would I move to a hotel?”

“Really, John, you must indeed be tired. Aren’t you feeling a little ‘de trop’ by now? Detective Williams and Commander McGarrett are delightful people, I’m sure, but aren’t they entitled to their privacy?”

“They are my friends, Mycroft, and they invited me to stay with them. You do know what a friend is, right?”

“Very well, John, I see my good offices are not required, so I will leave you to your friends. I wish you a good night.”

“Goodbye, Mycroft,” John said but Mycroft had already gone.

John sat down on the sand with a thump as his self-control disintegrated and his legs finally gave way. His eyes burned with unshed tears and he couldn’t prevent a sob escaping his throat. He had been so sure, he hadn’t had a moment’s doubt and hope had risen unchecked, only to be dashed again. In a way, he was grateful to Mycroft, who had brought his fantasy to a halt before he had allowed his imagination to supply a Hollywood ending. What had he expected: Sherlock to rise from his grave and appear on the beach in the moonlight, to take his hand and stroll romantically along the water’s edge as they had done just over a year ago? All accompanied by swelling violins and rainbows, of course. What a fool he was! Sherlock was dead and buried. He had seen him smash to pieces on the pavement with his own eyes, hadn’t he? Hadn’t he?

Actually, now that he thought about it, he hadn’t . . . he’d seen him jump and he’d seen his body lying on the pavement but he certainly hadn’t seen him smash to pieces. Sherlock had made very sure of that, ordering him to stand in a certain spot where his view was obscured by a building. He’d wondered about that afterwards, once his mind had stopped screaming, and had concluded Sherlock had tried to spare him at least that much. It hadn’t seemed likely at the time but John had had no other interpretation of the scenario. Now, though, having convinced himself that Sherlock was, by some miracle, actually alive, it didn’t make any sense. If Sherlock had wanted to spare John the trauma of his suicide, why had he called him to say goodbye? Had he managed to fake his death in some spectacular fashion? Oh yes, he could certainly believe that of Sherlock and wouldn’t he tear a strip off him when he saw him for putting him through such excruciating misery. No! John shook his head to clear away such thoughts. He wasn’t going to see Sherlock again; he would never have the opportunity to speak his mind to him. He hadn’t seen Sherlock actually hit the ground but he’d been by his side seconds later, had seen the blood and felt for a non-existent pulse. Sherlock was dead and his ridiculous deductions had only misled him into false hope.

John wrapped his arms around his knees and rested his head on them. Tears seeped slowly down his face unchecked as his grief overwhelmed him once more. Mycroft had been right after all; it was time for him to return to London.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Case solved and grieving once again, John prepares to return to London only to find himself going in completely the opposite direction.

Steve and Danny went to HQ the next morning without John. He had made them breakfast as had become his habit but declined to go with them. When he told them that Mycroft was arranging his flight back to London they did not protest. His red-rimmed eyes and slumped shoulders were more than eloquent. Steve went out to the truck but Danny lingered for a moment.

“You’re going to wait until we get back,” he said, not asking. “We’ll take you to the airport.”

“I can get a taxi,” John said and Danny reacted by doing what he had wanted to do since he had first come downstairs. He pulled John into a fierce hug and said,

“I’m sorry things didn’t work out, John, but if you leave before Steve and I have a chance to say goodbye, I will hunt you down and kill you.” John snuffed a tiny laugh and returned the hug, if a little half-heartedly.

“Okay.”

“That’s better.” Danny left John standing in the kitchen and hurried out the door when he heard Steve gun the engine. The door closed on him saying,

“Alright, already. Jeez, what is it with you . . .” John shook his head at their antics and made his way back upstairs to pack. He had barely opened his case when he heard a vehicle pull up and the front door open and close. He wandered over to the bedroom door, his hands full of T-shirts, and called down.

“Did you forget something, Danny?” There was no reply, so he moved to the top of the stairs. “You really should get a lock for the door, you know. Danny? Steve? Is that you?” He rounded the corner and looked down at the man standing frozen at the foot of the stairs. The T-shirts fell to the floor.

“John?”

“You’re back,” John said calmly and then everything went a little fuzzy. He swayed and would have fallen but his visitor bounded up the stairs and a strong arm wrapped around him.

“I need to sit down,” he said faintly and Sherlock lowered him carefully to the floor, kneeling beside him and holding him close. John allowed himself to be engulfed, his head resting against Sherlock’s chest, his arms wrapped around him. They stayed like that for several long minutes, not speaking, Sherlock’s face buried in John’s hair.

“I can hear your heart beating.” John finally spoke. “I can hear it quite clearly.”

“Yes, of course,” Sherlock said.

“So you’re not a ghost or a hallucination?”

“No, John, I am quite real.”

“You are going to explain all this, aren’t you? After I beat the living crap out of you, that is.” Sherlock chuckled.

“I suppose I deserve it. Ah, John, I have missed you.”

“At least you knew I was alive. I didn’t miss you, Sherlock, I _lost_ you.” His voice broke and Sherlock gently cradled his face in his long, elegant fingers, raising his chin to drop a soft kiss on his lips.

“And now you’ve found me,” he said. John groaned and pulled Sherlock closer, kissing him so fiercely that it would surely leave a bruise. Things were heating up nicely when Sherlock tore himself away.

“Much as I wish to continue this,” he said a little breathlessly, “I have a plane to catch.”

“What?” John was stunned. His head was whirling as he tried to process having Sherlock back alive and well and apparently completely unchanged. Sherlock got to his feet, pulling John with him. “What do you mean, you have a plane to catch? _I_ have a plane to catch but not until this evening.”

“Where are you going?” Sherlock looked confused. “I thought you were on holiday?”

“I was never on holiday, you git,” John said, but without heat. “I’m going back to London, like you.”

“I’m not going to London, John.”

“But I thought – I mean, Mycroft said I should go back. Sherlock, what the hell is going on?”

“My task is not yet completed,” Sherlock said. “There is only one more item to take care of but I must do it before I can return.”

“Then I’m going with you.” John folded his arms and looked stubborn.

“It’s too dangerous.”

“Pffft! You said could be dangerous and yet there I was, remember?” Sherlock’s lips twitched into a tiny smile.

“Yes, I remember; how could I forget?”

“Then I’m coming with you.” John was becoming positively bullish.

“Without even knowing where you’re going or what might be at the end of your journey?”

“Sherlock, I am not letting you disappear again. I don’t care where we’re going or what we’re doing; I am going with you. In fact, I don’t think I will ever let you out of my sight again.”

“Very well,” Sherlock conceded. “I had not planned on this but I cannot deny I am very glad. However, time is of the essence.” He pushed John towards the bedroom.

“Sherlock, stop! Just wait a moment.”

“We don’t have time, John. I’ll explain everything on the way.” Sherlock scooped up the fallen T-shirts and thrust them into John’s arms. John automatically took them and followed Sherlock into the bedroom. Sherlock looked around as John packed with his usual efficiency.

“Good god!” he exclaimed.

“I know,” John said. “It’s pink.”

Sherlock started to chuckle and John couldn’t help himself; he joined in and they sniggered and giggled while John finished packing. Sherlock hustled him downstairs but John baulked again at the door.

“I have to leave a note for Danny and Steve,” he said. “Otherwise they’ll probably start a manhunt for me.” Sherlock sighed.

“Very well, but John – “

“I know, I won’t tell them any details. I can’t anyway; I don’t know anything.”

He grabbed pen and paper and scribbled a note, leaving it on the kitchen counter for them to find when they got back. Sherlock barely gave him time to sign his name before he was urging him out to the hired car.

~

Danny and Steve arrived at HQ and were soon involved in a case involving the murder of an investigative reporter. Neither of them had time to think about John until they were on their way home late that evening.

“What time is John’s flight?” Steve asked casually as they headed out. Danny smacked his forehead in dismay.

“I completely forgot about it and I have no idea except that it’s this evening. I made him promise to wait for us so we could take him to the airport. I hope we’re not too late.”

Steve’s response was to accelerate, causing Danny to grab the handle above the passenger window and yell loudly at him.

“You are insane! May I remind you I have a daughter and I would like to live long enough to see her graduate from college, get married and give me grandchildren! I do not want to end up spread all over the tarmac because you are lacking the normal human fear gene. For god’s sake, slow down, you maniac!”

Steve eased off a little but they still hurtled through traffic at nerve shredding speed. When they finally pulled into the driveway of their house, Danny leapt out of the truck as if he had been shot from a cannon. Steve was a little more leisurely in his exit, by which time Danny had registered that the house was in total darkness.

“I guess he took a cab after all,” he said as they headed towards the front door. “I feel bad about that, Steve. The poor guy was in a bad way this morning and I promised him we would see him off.”

“John would understand,” Steve said. “I’m sorry we missed him but he knows the way we work. It’s a shame that he couldn’t stay longer. He was a big help with the case and I thought he would be able to relax after we got Moran.”

“I know,” Danny responded. “He was actually doing fine until he got that phone call last night but he looked like he’d been hit by a truck this morning and suddenly he’s leaving on the next plane. We should have taken the time to find out what was going on with him.”

Steve hit the lights in the kitchen and Danny saw the note on the counter. Expecting it to merely say goodbye, he was surprised by its contents.

“Hey, Steve,” he said, “listen to this: Sorry I didn’t stay to say goodbye but I had an unexpected visitor and I’m leaving early. Thank you for everything. I’ll email you the first chance I get. John.” Steve emerged from the fridge with a couple of beers in his hand.

“That’s odd,” he commented. “I wonder who his visitor was.”

“He doesn’t say but he must have left in a hurry because this scrawl is worse than yours.”

“Well, I’m sure he’ll send an email to explain soon enough. I just hope everything’s okay.” Danny frowned.

“You don’t think he’s in trouble, do you?”

“No, I don’t. If he’d had a problem, he’d have said something. And if his visitor wasn’t a friendly, I doubt he would have been able to leave a note. I wouldn’t worry, Danny; I’m sure he’s fine.”

~

“I’m fine,” John said for what felt like the fiftieth time. “Sherlock, would you please relax. We have a long flight ahead of us and you have a lot of talking to do, so stop avoiding the issue by continuously asking me if I’m okay.”

“But you passed out, John,” Sherlock said. “I cannot be easy in my mind until I understand why you did that.”

“I told you I was in shock - and I didn’t pass out; I just felt a little fuzzy for a minute. You can’t suddenly pop up in front of me like a genie from a bottle and not expect some reaction. I thought you were dead! You _wanted_ me to think you were dead. You could have given me a little warning, you know.”

Sherlock shifted uncomfortably in his seat and wouldn’t meet John’s eyes.

“What?” John demanded. “Why are you looking so guilty?”

“I was just as surprised as you were,” Sherlock finally admitted.

“Oh!” John had to take a moment to digest this. “So you didn’t come looking for me, is that what you’re telling me?”

“I expected to find an empty house, yes,” Sherlock said in a small voice. “I thought you would have gone with Danny and Steve.”

“You arsehole,” John said bitterly. “You were right there and, if I hadn’t changed my plans, I would still think you were dead.”

“Yes.” Sherlock had the good sense not to apologise at this point. John was looking murderous enough as it was. “I admit it; I had no intention of revealing my presence at the time.”

“Why not, Sherlock? Don’t you trust me anymore? Do you even care what I’ve been through recently?”

“Yes, John, I care very deeply. I simply couldn’t risk it; I couldn’t risk your safety.” Sherlock finally looked at John, his expression completely serious.

“I can take care of myself!”

“Yes, John, under normal circumstances you are more than capable but these weren’t normal circumstances.”

“Well, we can both agree on that!” John snapped. “There was nothing normal about you jumping off the roof of St. Bart’s right in front of me! There was nothing normal about watching the media having a field day with your life and reputation and not being able to tell them how wrong they were. And there was nothing normal about you being in Hawaii at the same time as me. How the hell did you find out about that? Did Mycroft tell you?”

“Hardly! I discovered your presence by accident while I was pursuing Sebastian Moran.” John should not have been so surprised.

“You know about Moran? Wait, of course you do. It was you, wasn’t it? All this time, it was you pulling Moriarty’s organization apart! Irene Adler wondered who was clever enough: I should have figured it out before now, except I thought you were _dead!_ ”

“I thought you had figured it out, John; I was hoping you would realize what I was doing.” Sherlock looked soulfully at John but John wasn’t quite ready to let him off the hook quite yet.

“I did and I even figured out it was you who tipped off the Governor’s office but I couldn’t quite reconcile that with you being, you know, dead!”

“Honestly, John, what am I always saying to you?”

“Piss off?” That surprised a bark of laughter out of Sherlock.

“Be serious, John; now is not the time. I was referring to when you have eliminated the impossible –“

“Whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth.” John finished for him. “I did that; I worked it out and concluded that you had to be alive.”

“Very good; you do pay attention occasionally. So, if you had concluded I was alive, why were you so shocked to see me?” John sighed.

“Sherlock, concluding something that improbable takes a bit of getting used to. I did think you would – well, that doesn’t matter now. Tell me why we’re on a plane to Seoul.”

Sherlock suddenly covered John’s hand with his own.

“It does matter, John. What did you think I would do?”

“I was just being stupid.” It was John’s turn to avoid Sherlock’s eyes. Sherlock squeezed his hand gently.

“You are generally stupid, like most average human beings, but not when it comes to our relationship, John. What should I have done that I obviously didn’t?” John’s ears turned pink with embarrassment.

“I thought you would magically appear after we got Moran. I waited for you down by the ocean but you never – anyway, Mycroft called and was his usual snotty self. He suggested it was time I returned to London and, when I told him I was staying in Hawaii, he said there was nothing there for me. I thought he was hinting you were in London but that wasn’t right, either, and I – well, I rather lost it after that.”

“I’ve disappointed you again.” Sherlock raised their joined hands to his lips and pressed a kiss to the inside of John’s wrist. “I am sorry, John, truly I am.”

John basked in the moment for a few seconds and then said,

“Never mind that now. Answer the question, Sherlock. What are we doing on a plane to Seoul?”

“Remember I said there was one last thing for me to do before I could return to London?”

“Yes, of course I do. What is it?”

“Seoul is not our final destination. We are going to North Korea where I am going to eliminate the last member of Moriarty’s cabal.” John frowned and then light quickly dawned.

“You mean Wo Fat? We’d heard he had gone to Hong Kong.”

“I do, indeed, mean Wo Fat and Hong Kong was no more his final destination that Seoul is ours.” John chewed his lower lip while he considered what lay ahead. “So how do we get into North Korea?” he asked.

~

Back in Hawaii, the team had been making progress with the murder case, with one surprising result. They discovered a connection to Jenna Kaye and then they located Jenna. They were delighted to see her, especially Kono, and were eager to catch up. Jenna had news, too, which she chose to share only with Steve. Apparently, her fiancé, presumed dead nearly two years ago, had been found alive. That was the good news; the bad news was that he was a prisoner and the really bad news was where he was being held – North Korea. Jenna wanted Steve’s help to deliver a ransom payment, pleading with him to assist and Steve finally agreed to go with her. Just the two of them, no back up, a quick ‘in-and-out’: that was the plan.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As John adjusts to the current upheaval in his life, Danny discovers he has a major problem of his own. Mayhem follows as usual.

If he had consulted Danny, which he carefully did not, Steve would have been made aware of the foolhardiness of his plan. As it was, he and Jenna made it as far as driving through the DMZ before they were apprehended. They were captured and imprisoned in an old bunker, unfortunately not by the North Korean army, which would have caused an international incident but might have led to their final release. Instead, they were caught by a mercenary group and Steve tried to negotiate with them. It was only when their leader finally made an appearance that he understood fully the predicament he was in. 

Wo Fat was as treacherous as ever and poor Jenna paid the price of taking him at his word. Discovering that her fiancé was dead, she admitted to Steve that she had co-operated with Wo Fat on the understanding that she would be able to free her fiancé. She had betrayed Steve and been betrayed herself and, having confessed, she tried to help him. She made a call, hoping it would get through to Five-0, and managed to slip the metal pin she had retrieved from her fiancé to within his reach. It was her dying act and Steve added another life to the score against Wo Fat. How he was going to extract revenge was going to be a challenge, but Steve was determined. Tortured though he was, he hung on grimly and waited his chance to get free. He had no expectation of the cavalry riding to his rescue but was not deterred. By sheer force of will and some clever footwork, he managed to get free from his bonds. This was only the first step, of course; he now had to get past the armed guards, evade Wo Fat, get back through the DMZ and across the border into South Korea. He could barely stand.

~

Over the course of their relationship, John had learned not to ask Sherlock too many questions about his methods when it came to achieving the impossible. His more daring, and usually illegal, exploits made good reading, and John’s blog had benefitted from them, but he never revealed the details because he usually avoided finding out how Sherlock managed to pull them off. Mycroft’s name was never mentioned and Sherlock hated being beholden to him, but they each used the connection to their advantage if necessary. John had seen this at Baskerville and with Irene Adler but he had never fully appreciated the extent of Mycroft’s influence until he and Sherlock slipped into North Korea unchallenged. A quick stop at a non-descript house in an out of the way village and they were both armed and fully equipped, including a secure phone with a satellite uplink. There was also one vital piece of information; Wo Fat’s whereabouts.

John had plenty of time to think about all of this because he and Sherlock were currently staking out the bunker where Wo Fat was concealed. They had observed a great deal of interesting activity but John had not been prepared to see Jenna Kaye and Steve arrive under armed guard and looking the worse for wear. His instincts were to try and rescue them and Sherlock had to argue forcibly against it. They were outnumbered at least five to one and any precipitous action would only lead to Jenna and Steve being killed. John recognized the truth of this but could not sit idly by. Despite the possibility of detection, they scouted the area and took what steps they could to secure the perimeter so they wouldn’t be taken by surprise and looked for a safe vantage point. Sherlock managed to place a call to London to send a text to Mycroft and then they settled down to wait. It was, perhaps, unfortunate and definitely uncomfortable, that Sherlock had decided the safest vantage point was up a large tree.

John could not argue the logic of the choice but he and Sherlock were jammed tightly together in a very confined space amid dense vegetation. Sherlock was entirely focused on observation and John found himself in the rather odd position of being extremely close to the man he thought he had lost forever and being as good as invisible to him. The mixed emotions John felt were difficult to handle when they were in such a precarious situation. Sherlock had attempted to explain himself during their eighteen hour flight but had only succeeded in confusing the issue and befuddling John’s already dazed mind. 

Sherlock had quite obviously faked his death in a dramatic fashion, enlisting the help of Molly Hooper. John found it hard to accept that Sherlock had trusted Molly more than he had John. Even explaining why he did what he did, to protect him and Lestrade and Mrs. Hudson from Moriarty’s machinations, John was wounded to the core that Sherlock had not told him what was going on. The dramatic fake suicide had been to convince Moriarty’s hired assassins that Sherlock was, indeed, dead but John could not accept that Sherlock had set it up – set him up – without any attempt to ease the shock and pain he had felt.

He had listened patiently but with growing anger as Sherlock explained it all. He had said nothing at the time, knowing he had to think everything through before he talked to Sherlock about his actions and the aftermath. Sitting up a tree in a seriously dangerous situation was not exactly an appropriate venue in which to vent but John could feel the anger rising in his throat as Sherlock stared fixedly at the bunker through powerful binoculars. John’s fists balled involuntarily and he was struggling not to yell at the man who had caused him such misery and yet, at the same time, made him so happy. To say he was conflicted was a huge understatement. His breathing became ragged as he fought manfully with himself and then, just as he opened his mouth to whisper furiously, Sherlock dropped the binoculars and turned to face him. He laid a finger on John’s lips and shook his head, pointing downwards. John became aware of movement below them and subsided, his heart pounding with a mixture of adrenalin and the remains of his anger.

It was difficult to see who or what was below them and peering through the dense vegetation created a strange visual effect as the movement formed into camouflaged figures and then dissolved again. There was a group of armed men beneath them, working their way towards the bunker. Unfortunately, they chose to halt almost directly under the tree which concealed them and John failed to recognize any of them. He wondered with a sinking heart if it was more of Wo Fat’s men until he caught a glimpse of blond hair. He tugged Sherlock’s sleeve and mouthed ‘Danny’. Sherlock nodded his understanding. They needed to attract their attention without startling them and maybe getting shot for their trouble. Sherlock frowned as he puzzled over the dilemma and then inspiration struck. He typed rapidly on the phone and passed it to John to send the text to Danny, hoping John could remember his number:

SMcG and JK in bunker. Wo Fat arrived two hours ago. Keeping watch above. Be careful of quarter k perimeter – booby trapped to give warning of approach. 

There was an agonizingly long delay and then Danny nearly jumped out of his skin when his phone vibrated against his thigh. He was not expecting any calls or texts and hoped it wasn’t Gracie. He was stunned when he read the text and immediately looked upwards. There was nothing to see but he needed to pass on the information he had just received. He tapped the shoulder of the man in front of him and waved the phone at him. Danny never could figure out how the man did it but Joe White and Chin Ho came back to find out what was going on while the men melted into the underbrush. They had a quick, whispered conference and it was obvious Joe was not pleased. Danny sent a quick text back to the mysterious informant:

Thanks for the tip. Who are you? Why are you here? Danny Williams

Sherlock rolled his eyes when he read it and typed back:

Does it matter? You need to act quickly. There are 8-10 armed men, four on guard outside, rest inside. Blind spot at north-east corner of bunker.

Joe was not inclined to trust the information but a quick reconnaissance proved the information to be correct. There was a blind spot where they had been told to check and they had counted four guards outside. It seemed the mystery informant had good intelligence. Joe had a quick conference with his men and they were about to take up positions for an assault when they heard gunfire. The rough assault plan was immediately put into action and Sherlock was back to watching through the binoculars. It was a short, sharp battle and then Danny and Chin emerged with Steve staggering between them, one arm draped across each of their shoulders. He looked terrible and there was no sign of Jenna.

They beat a swift retreat and John made a move to leave his hiding place but, again, Sherlock restrained him. Wisely, as it turned out, because Wo Fat suddenly appeared and a pursuit was soon under way. John and Sherlock stayed where they were until all was quiet. John was pleased Steve had been rescued and was dumbfounded when Sherlock angrily exclaimed about the interference with his plan.

“Sherlock,” John pleaded, “see reason. We don’t know how Steve managed to be captured but you know as well as I do that Danny and the team were not going to sit on their hands and do nothing.”

“They blundered about like a bunch of amateurs and now I’ve missed my chance with Wo Fat,” Sherlock all but snarled. “He’ll go to ground and it could be years before I track him down again.”

John shook his head.

“He might very well go to ground but there is no chance that he is going to get away. Steve is determined to get him and I think we can leave it to him and the others. We need to go home to England.”

“I can’t,” Sherlock said immediately. “I can’t allow Wo Fat to have free rein with Moriarty’s network.”

“Yes, you can,” John said. “You’re just being stubborn. Wo Fat isn’t going to worry about the remnants of Moriarty’s organization, not with Moran in custody and singing like a canary. He’ll stay far away from it and, besides, he’s going to have his hands full with Five-0. They aren’t going to forget this in a hurry.”

Sherlock sighed heavily but he could see the sense in John’s argument.

“It’s most unsatisfactory,” he muttered and John knew he had won.

“I know,” he said soothingly, “but I, for one, am more than happy to get the hell away from here and head back to Baker Street. Any ideas on how we’re going to do that?”

“Of course,” Sherlock said, instantly diverted. “I have an exit strategy, John; how could you doubt it?”

“I don’t doubt it, Sherlock,” John said with a grin. “I just want to know what it is.”

~

From: dwilliams@h50.hawaii.gov  
Sent: 1st July  
To: john@drjhwatson.co.uk  
Subject: How are things?

Hi John,

It seems ages since you were here and we were hunting Sebastian Moran! Sorry I haven’t written before now but things got out of hand very quickly after you left. Steve and I were sorry to have missed your departure but I am still waiting for your email to explain about your visitor and why you took off so abruptly. But that can wait while I tell you what happened here.

Jenna Kaye turned up out of the blue and managed to persuade Steve to help her rescue her fiancé. Naturally, he took off without telling me anything and the next thing we know, Jenna sent a cryptic message indicating she and Steve were being held prisoner by Wo Fat in – wait for it – North fucking Korea! Rescuing Your Idiot Boyfriend 101 does not cover infiltrating a hostile country to find him, believe me. We’ll tell you the whole story at some point but it was quite an adventure. Cdr. Joe White and a SEAL team we had helped on a past case rallied round and the whole team took off and went to South Korea. From there we found a lunatic pilot with an ancient helicopter that Joe knew and rode to the rescue.

Actually, it’s easy to tell you those bits and find them humorous but the truth is, Wo Fat killed Jenna and tortured Steve. I want to tear that bastard apart with my bare hands! None of it was funny, really, and Steve was – I can’t even describe it, even now. He’s recuperating nicely now and I am waiting for him to be 100% and then I am going to KILL him for what he put me through! He must have taken ten years off my life expectancy with this latest escapade.

Okay, more of this later but, for now, what happened to you?

Danny

From: john@drjhwatson.co.uk  
Sent: 2nd July  
To: dwilliams@h50.hawaii.gov  
Re: How are things?

Dear Danny,

Thank you for your email. It sounds like you have been having a somewhat traumatic time and I am sorry to hear the news about Jenna but so glad Steve is recovering.

I hated disappearing the way I did but my unexpected visitor not only appeared out of nowhere but apparently returned from the grave! I am still recovering from the shock of seeing him standing at the foot of the stairs in your house. We had our own adventure but he has forbidden me to mention his name or give any details until he has settled certain matters here in London. You know what I am talking about and I cannot describe how I feel right now. Part of me is blissfully happy and part of me is very much in your corner – I could KILL him for what he put me through! It is difficult to reconcile relief and anger and yet, here we are again, dealing with precisely the same emotions and for the same reasons. Perhaps we should run away to a desert island and leave them to their own devices? Nope, it would never work; they’d probably cause such havoc if we left them unsupervised for more than a few minutes that nowhere would be safe!

Seriously, I am incredibly glad that Steve and you survived and are still together and working things out. We will do the same – eventually – and then things will be back to normal. What am I saying? Normal is not the adjective to use to describe our relationships.

I await the rest of your tale with great interest and want to thank you again for being there for me at a time when I desperately needed your friendship.

John

~

From: smoothdog@gmail.com  
Sent: 10th July  
To: tocditw@tsod.com  
Subject: Danny and John

Hey Sherlock – Danny and I figured out John’s email pretty quick and I can’t tell you how happy we are that you’re not dead. Well, I’m guessing that’s what Danny would say as he is currently not speaking to me – I think he’s really angry with me! How can I fix this if he won’t even have a conversation? All I can do is keep trying and keep apologising and wear him down eventually. Steve

From: tocditw@tsod.com  
Sent: 11th July  
To: smoothdog@gmail.com  
Subject: RE: Danny and John

Thank you, Steven; it’s nice to know someone’s happy I’m not dead. I think John is but, like you, I can only deduce this as he refuses to discuss it. I think he is still angry with me. Not without justification, I know, but I wish he would forgive me. I need him to be the same John he always was and – he’s not, not yet.

I have just about completed my return to normal life and my reputation is again unblemished. John and I are naturally very happy you survived your experience even if you were not entirely unscathed. Be assured of my assistance at any time in your dealings with Wo Fat. We have more than one score to settle between us. Sherlock  
~


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Danny try to explain why they are upset with their partners. Is a reconciliation even possible?

It had been ten days since John and Sherlock had settled back into Baker Street. The splashy press headlines had not been to Sherlock’s liking but there had been little other recourse to re-establish himself. He refused all interviews and heavily censored John’s blog, maintaining a low profile until a political scandal soon knocked him off the front page. Only then could he give his full attention to repairing the damage he had done to his relationship with John. And only then did he realize that this was going to be much harder than he had anticipated.

John was polite, supportive even, but he spent a lot of time at the clinic and out with Stamford – at least Sherlock hoped it was Stamford or his rugby pals and not another vapid girlfriend. And every night, when he came home, John retired upstairs to his bedroom after saying a polite goodnight. They had not so much as kissed since that first desperate embrace when he had seen John in Steve’s house. He had thought he and John were solidly established as a couple but there was no escaping the fact that John had liked women in the past, whereas he only liked John. No, that wasn’t true; he loved John but, as time passed, he had to face the possibility that John no longer loved him. He had never thought John fickle and refused to believe he had been wrong, but there was no escaping the fact that the John he loved was absent in all but physical presence. He tried to be nice, making tea, doing the shopping, even tidying the flat but nothing seemed to work and the domesticity was so boring Sherlock was at his wits’ end. He needed a case to distract him but nothing caught his interest. God, he was bored – bored, bored, bored!

John buried himself in his work, taking extra shifts and even some locum work, anything to avoid spending more time than necessary in Baker Street. He toyed with the idea of moving out but he knew that would not solve his problem. He wanted to be with Sherlock but he could not re-commit to a relationship until he was convinced that Sherlock trusted him. He had accepted Sherlock’s explanation for his actions and could admit the logic was sound, however cold-blooded it had been. He was even able to forgive Sherlock for the sheer agony he had suffered; it was easier than he thought to do that because the sheer joy and exhilaration of having Sherlock alive and well erased the misery. What he could not get over was the fact that Sherlock had not trusted him even after his fake suicide. One word would have been enough but Sherlock had left him devastated and gone off after Moriarty’s network on his own, had faced the dangers and travelled the world without him and John couldn’t forgive that, not yet, maybe not ever. Sherlock was going to have to realize what being in a committed relationship entailed if they were going to have any future together.

~

It had been two weeks since Danny and Steve had returned to Oahu and Danny had held his tongue until Steve turned the corner and was on the mend. Danny had been shocked to the core by Steve’s physical condition, horrified to contemplate the man he loved being tortured. That Steve had survived and seemed emotionally unscathed was a source of profound relief and also the source of his fury. Despite everything he had said and Steve’s promises to him, when it had come to paying attention and keeping his word, Steve had thrown himself headlong into danger without a second thought. It was too much; there was going to have to be a drastic change if they were going to continue their relationship. Danny knew Steve trusted him to have his back when it came to their day-to-day work. They were partners and that’s what partners did. What Steve failed to understand was that their partnership went further than that; they shared their lives and Danny would only continue that if Steve committed himself one hundred per cent. He was no longer prepared to accept Steve ignoring him when he chose, even if it was to protect him. Was Steve never going to learn that?

They continued to live together but the distance between them was vast and Danny wondered if he should get out while the going was good. He thought about it but knew that was not the answer to his dilemma. He wanted to be with Steve but things had to change. If Steve could not trust him with his whole heart then there was no future for them. Danny wasn’t prepared to settle for less and Steve was going to have to realize that.

~

From: smoothdog@gmail.com  
Sent: 21st July  
To: tocditw@tsod.com  
Subject: Help

Sherlock, I’m sorry to bother you but things here are not improving and I’ve run out of ideas. I don’t know how to put this right between Danny and me. Any advice you can offer would be great. Steve

From: tocditw@tsod.com  
Sent: 22nd July  
To: smoothdog@gmail.com  
Subject: RE: Help

I am sorry, Steven, but my situation has not improved either and I was never particularly good at relationships in the first place. Any advice from me would be worthless and I find myself in the unusual position of wanting advice myself. John is the one who could help you as he understands human frailties and messy emotions far better than I. Sherlock

~

From: smoothdog@gmail.com  
Sent: 25th July  
To: john@drjhwatson.co.uk

Hi John, I’m sure you’re surprised to hear from me as I know you usually talk to Danny but this is about Danny and I need your help. He’s upset about what happened with Jenna and I understand that but he won’t accept my apology although I’ve tried too many times to count. Why won’t he believe me when I say I’m sorry? I don’t want to lose him. Steve

PS We were so happy when we heard Sherlock was alive and well. I know you must be, too.

John read and re-read Steve’s email. After the initial surprise at receiving it, he spent a lot of time thinking about Steve and Danny. He could easily understand Danny being upset with Steve but surely the fact that Steve survived had to outweigh any anger he felt? Why was he wasting the opportunity offered by this second chance? Steve might have been killed and then what would Danny have done? Even though Danny had every right to be furious and Steve needed to understand the underlying causes of that anger, the fact remained that Danny still had Steve to yell and curse at, to call an idiot and to hold in his arms when he’d finished. John didn’t think he should interfere but Steve’s message had been heartfelt and, as understated as it was, it was a desperate plea for help. John turned the problem over and over in his mind and then he made a decision.

From: john@drjhwatson.co.uk  
Sent: 28th July  
To: dwilliams@h50.hawaii.gov

Subject: Steve

I understand why you are so angry and upset with Steve but what would you be feeling right now if the rescue mission had failed? I thought I had lost Sherlock forever and you know what that did to me. Do whatever you have to do to make him understand your problem but Danny, please, for your own sake, make your peace with him and forgive him. Sorry if you think I’m interfering but it’s the best advice I can give you. Please let me know how things are. John

As he hit the send button John’s conscience pricked him. What a hypocrite he was! He closed his laptop and glanced around the flat. There was no sign of Sherlock and John felt a shiver trickle down his spine. All those weeks without him and now, when Sherlock had miraculously returned, John had been too angry to welcome him back. He got to his feet, his heart suddenly pounding with fright; what if he had driven Sherlock away? He searched frantically although there were few places Sherlock could be hiding. The kitchen took only a glance, Sherlock’s room was empty, the bed untouched, the bathroom unoccupied. Finally, John dashed up the stairs to his own room; still no sign of Sherlock. John went slowly back downstairs and sank into the armchair, aware he was being ridiculous and that Sherlock had probably gone out without him noticing, but he was overwhelmed again by a terrible feeling of loss. The image of Sherlock plummeting from the roof of St.Bart’s danced behind his eyes and he stifled a sob.

“John?” 

Sherlock was suddenly there, on his knees in front of him, his face paler than usual. The groceries he had been carrying lay abandoned where he had dropped them and John’s attention was caught by a tin of beans rolling slowly across the floor. Tears slid down John’s cheeks and Sherlock gripped his forearms, wanting but not daring to pull him close.

“John, please, what is it? What’s wrong?”

“You bought me beans,” John managed to gasp. Sherlock was completely flummoxed.

“Yes, John,” he said carefully. “Why is my purchasing of baked beans a cause for such grief? Are they the wrong brand?” His obvious sincerity and perplexed expression were too much for John and he started to laugh a little hysterically.

“You idiot,” he said. Sherlock’s relief was palpable. He raised a gentle hand and wiped the tears from John’s cheek.

“I am so very sorry, John,” he said softly. “I deserve your anger and I understand if you find you no longer love me. I was never worthy of you but allow me to say that knowing you has changed my life, has changed me. I did what I thought was necessary to protect you and the others but I admit I did not take into account the effect it would have on you. I did not deserve such grief; I did not anticipate it. Please forgive me.”

“I will, on one condition,” John said after a long pause.

“Anything,” Sherlock said sounding so relieved that John’s conscience pricked him again.

“Tell me why you came to Steve’s house that morning if it wasn’t to find me.”

To John’s amazement, Sherlock blushed rosily.

“Ah,” he said and looked away.

“Sherlock?” John reached out and turned Sherlock’s face back towards him. “It can’t be that bad, surely?”

Sherlock swallowed and bit his lip.

“It’s not bad, precisely,” he said, “just embarrassing.”

“Out with it,” John said firmly. Sherlock sighed.

“Very well, since you insist. I had discovered you were staying with Danny and Steve and had even observed you the evening before.”

“When I was on the beach? You were there all the time?” John’s eyes flashed and Sherlock winced, chewing on his lip again.

“Yes, John. Now you’re angry again.”

“I’m trying not to be,” John said. “Go on, finish what you were saying.”

“I wanted to approach you but Wo Fat was still a threat and I could not risk your life for a moment’s pleasure. I discovered, however, that it was very difficult for me to resist and, when you turned back, I almost revealed my presence. Danny fortuitously prevented me from doing so but that brief glimpse of you reminded me of all that I was missing. I was unprepared for such emotion as I felt. The next morning, after Steve and Danny left, I thought I would be able to enter the house unobserved. I was shocked when you appeared above me as I had anticipated you being with them and the house being empty.”

“Yes, you said as much. But I still don’t understand why you came to the house.” John was still confused.

“It was my intention to retrieve something of yours, some small item I could keep close until my mission was successful and I could reveal the truth.”

“Oh.” John stared at Sherlock while he absorbed what he had said. “You mean to tell me you were going to help yourself to – what – a T-shirt or something?”

“I am not proud of my sentimentality, John, but, yes, that was my intention.”

“I don’t know whether to be flattered or furious. Tell me something, Sherlock; if you had to do the same thing all over again, would you do exactly what you did?”

“As far as deceiving Moriarty’s men, yes, of course I would. You were under a direct threat, as was Mrs. Hudson and Lestrade and the only way to protect you was to convince them I was dead. I also had to ensure that your reactions were real and visceral, so I would not have told you of my plans despite the consequences.” Sherlock paused and took John’s face between his hands, his pale eyes fixed on John’s. “I would, however, have found some means of sparing you afterwards, knowing what I know now.”

“You would have told me you were alive?”

“If at all possible without endangering you further.” John smiled.

“Okay.” 

Sherlock hesitated very briefly, in case John was going to say something more and, when he didn’t, he moved closer and covered John’s lips with his own. John opened to him willingly and Sherlock deepened the kiss as John tugged him closer. John finally broke away, a little breathless. Sherlock got to his feet and held out his hand to John. John allowed himself to be pulled upwards but held Sherlock back for a second.

“One more thing,” John said, his tone severe. “Don’t ever let me hear you say again that you are not worthy of me, understand?”

“Yes, John.” Sherlock smiled tentatively.

“Why are you still standing there?” John asked.

“I have no idea. Will you take me back into your bed, John – please?”

“Not a chance.” Sherlock’s face fell. 

“Don’t be a complete moron,” John added, “your bed is much bigger.”

~

Danny was very surprised to receive John’s email. He had no idea what had prompted it and his first reaction was to ask what was going on. He had second thoughts, however, and instead spent a considerable amount of time thinking about the contents. He could not shake the memory of John’s face when he had met him at Heathrow; the lifeless eyes, the fake smile, the utter agony showing in every line on his face. Sherlock’s death had done that to John and Danny had to admit that he would probably have looked the same if the situation had been reversed and he had lost Steve. That whole dreadful trip to North Korea had been a nightmare of anticipating just such an event and the overwhelming relief when they had found Steve alive had not obliterated the nightmare.

He had tried every which way to explain this to Steve, who listened and apologized and just didn’t get it. Danny had eventually stopped trying and they had been dancing around each other ever since, still living and working together but separated by a vast chasm of miscommunication. Danny didn’t want their relationship to be over any more than he wanted to live with the constant fear of Steve dying and leaving him alone. He could accept that there was a possibility of that happening due to their line of work, just as it might happen to him. What he could not and would not accept was Steve deliberately and thoughtlessly putting himself in harm’s way without considering Danny’s feelings. 

Encouraged by John’s message, he decided to give it one more try, wanting to follow John’s advice and forgive Steve wholeheartedly. Steve was out on the lanai grilling steaks for dinner. Danny grabbed a couple of beers from the fridge and wandered out to join him. Steve looked surprised but made no comment. Danny took a long pull of his beer and said,

“I had an email from John.”

“Oh, you did?” Steve glanced up from the steaks, trying to judge Danny’s mood. “How’s he doing?”

“He didn’t say but I’m guessing things are better as he wanted to share the love.”

“How d’ya mean?”

“I mean, Steven, that he reminded me how badly he felt when he thought Sherlock was dead. You remember that, right?” Steve took the steaks off the grill and left them to rest while he gave his whole attention to Danny.

“Yes, of course I do. The poor guy was devastated. It’s so great that Sherlock’s alive.”

“Yes, it is and I’m so glad you can appreciate that,” Danny said as he stepped into Steve’s personal space. “It’s great that you’re alive, too, after I had to come and rescue your sad ass because you took off on me again.” Steve’s shoulders slumped as he realized Danny was starting the same lecture again.

“I’ve said how grateful I am that you did that," he said, “and I’ve said I’m sorry a thousand times. I don’t know what else to tell you, Danno.”

“Tell me you’ll never do it again,” Danny said, poking Steve in the chest. “Promise me you will never do anything so stupid and thoughtless and terrifying again and I might just get over the nightmares I’ve been having ever since we found you.”

“Nightmares? You’ve never said anything about having nightmares,” Steve exclaimed.

“Of course I have nightmares, you brainless moron. I wake up screaming every night because I can see you lying dead at my feet with Wo Fat laughing at me.”

“But that didn’t happen, Danny.” Steve was puzzled.

“No, I know it didn’t happen but it could have done. Don’t you get it yet? That whole trip was a nightmare and I spent every moment imagining you dead and what I would do if you were. Tell me, Steve, did you spend one moment, one second, thinking about that, hm?” Danny’s voice was rising as his emotions got the better of him again. Steve watched him winding himself up into another rant and then reached out and grabbed him by the shoulders, giving him a little shake to get his attention.

“Danny, please, just listen to me for a second. I know how angry you are and I understand why. If I could do it over again I wouldn’t do it the same, I promise. I am learning and I am trying and I promise to keep on doing both. And I am sorry I didn’t tell you what I was planning. It wasn’t that I didn’t trust you; I didn’t want you getting involved. I knew you would want to come with us but you have Gracie and I won’t ever be responsible for robbing her of her father. I couldn’t endanger you like that; I just couldn’t.”

“You could have died!” Danny yelled and then he hauled off and punched Steve as hard as he could. Normally, Steve would have ridden the punch and probably come back swinging but he was still recovering and Danny caught him unawares. He went down in a heap and Danny fell on his knees beside him.

“Damnit! Oh, fuck, Steve, I didn’t mean - I’m so sorry!"

Steve managed a feeble smile.

“I guess I deserved that,” he said, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand.

“Yes, you did, you great idiot but I didn’t mean to hurt you like that.” Danny was stricken and his hands were all over Steve, patting and stroking as he checked him for damage.

“I’m fine,” Steve said and hooked Danny close with a long arm. “C’mere, Danny,” he murmured, pulling Danny close so that he was lying half on top of him. Danny was stiff and unresponsive for a moment and then he all but collapsed onto Steve. “Say you forgive me,” Steve whispered. “Please, Danno, please say you forgive me.”

“I will if you promise never to do it again.” Danny’s lips were moving against Steve’s skin, he was being held so close.

“I promise I won’t ever go off without telling you,” Steve said. “I can do that, Danny, but don’t ask me to promise that I won’t try to protect you.” Danny huffed and Steve could feel his face twisting into the equivalent of aneurysm face. The thought made him chuckle and Danny squirmed in his arms. 

“Oh, you think you’ve won, don’t you McGarrett? You think a hug and some soft talk makes everything okay!” Danny complained but his voice was calmer and Steve could feel that he was smiling.

“No, Danno,” he said softly, “I’m just happy to have you in my arms again.”

Danny had no reply to that so he settled for kissing Steve instead, long and deep. Then he got to his feet and helped Steve up.

“We need to put some ice on that,” he said, eyeing the bruise forming on Steve’s jaw.

“It can wait,” Steve replied as he tugged Danny towards the house.

“What about the steaks?” Danny protested feebly.

“They can wait, too, Danny, but I can’t.” Steve stopped to kiss Danny again and then urged him into the house and up the stairs.

 

THE END


End file.
